To Find a Perch
by ahugebox
Summary: The Branwen Chief sends her twins out in the world to garner strength and lead the Tribe into the new world. Qrow and Raven end up in Ozpin's clutches, muddying what it means to be family, as they join a new one: Team STRQ. Summer, Taiyang, and the twins find their values, their strength, and love on their way to their goals. Pre-show. Updates every 1st and 15th!
1. Chapter 1: Strength

Chapter 1: Strength

* * *

A circle of stakes separated Qrow from the rest of the world, barring anyone from entry. It stood in the center Branwen Hideout, where the Tribe would reside until a nearby village would wisen up and attack. Sharpened trunks protected Qrow's little world from the horrible continent it happened to be attached to. Their crown jewel was supposedly a city where the rich slept at the top of a hill lulled to sleep by a passing river, and their poor counterparts lived at the bottom of a waterfall, crashing tides disrupting the bustle of their daily lives. Nobody wants to live like that.

"Nature asserts the strong will survive. The Branwen Tribe will survive, and chooses to hone its claws by playing with one another. The tourney shall begin with my son, Qrow Branwen, facing off against Overseer Haathee," the Chief chanted.

A middle aged goliath entered the ring. The gate snapped close, and Qrow bathed in anticipation. The egos seeped out of the ring, infecting the Branwen crowd with a rowdy spirit. Faces familiar to him screamed in awe, but all fell silent when Mother rose from her throne. Her demeanor commanded attention, and nothing Qrow could quite call an emotion escaped her face. Carmine eyes swept over her village.

"Warriors, don your masks."

Fashioned in the form of a Nevermore, Qrow became Grimm. The pointed feathers of his hair swept over his mask, and his aura pulsed beneath his skin. His hide he called clothing was ripped at the arms, and boots bloodied from the previous fight betrayed the naive white he wore underneath his getup. No point in getting his smock dirty, after all.

Overseer Haathee wore Grimm tusks. It might've been intimidating if Qrow could ignore his troubled gaze. Haathee was a nice man, who had brought Qrow along to many different hunts. Funnily enough, he was the one to give Qrow his first swig on wine. Sadly, he had no chance of winning, as Qrow's opportunistic and fleeting fighting philosophy would never give Haathee room to breath. It'd be easy, in fact. Qrow could guess the poor sap's every tactic just by one look over. The goliath stood beside a ball and chain, which would only be effective at range. He must've resorted to simple punches if his opponents got too close. He had no tools in between, which was unfortunately Qrow's strong point.

"Just as nature commands, may the strongest win." Mother returned to her seat, and the Branwen crowd created an uproar. This was the one thing Qrow was good at, so it was nice to be the center of attention. The goliath hefted his chain. In response, Qrow unstrapped his scythe from his back. Haathee began to raise his ball. Qrow gripped Quill's pommel, planning to end it as fast as possible. He pitied the goliath of a man; he really did.

Seeing Qrow's left foot forward, the goliath safely assumed Qrow preferred moving left. The ball sailed through the air at a breakneck pace, aimed exactly where Qrow would step if his stance really did lean to the left.

It didn't.

Qrow jaunted to the right, closed the distance, and swung Quill. Striking flesh. Merciful flesh, to be quite honest, as aiming for the shoulder let the man live if he didn't have aura. To Qrow's relief, he did. Quill bounced back around, and Qrow employed that momentum to a wide swing towards Haathee's chest. It struck gold. With some more fleet footwork and brutal blows, Qrow strapped Quill in its proper place, and walked away the victor.

"The strongest has survived the ring," Mother smiled. The following celebration was a hollow one; even if his opponent had a chance at winning, he'd be condemned if he had. Brutalizing one of Tribe's heirs would have sentenced him to a life of shame and regret, blunting the consequences of his loss. A week of shame was preferable to a life of sadness. It just wasn't a true match of a strength, and Qrow preferred fairness above hollow victories.

He returned to a seat beside the throne, where Raven and Father offered him small smiles. Mother announced the next battle of the tourney, Raven facing off against another mook. Raven rose akin to a queen, chin raised to look at the peons beneath her. She smiled a wicked smile. After summoning a servant to fetch her blade, Raven paced an agonizing speed towards the ring where her opponent had already set up shop. Fastening her belt and sheath along her waist, she was ready to paint her hide red.

"Warriors, don your masks. Just as nature commands, may the strongest win," Mother announced. Her indifference was replaced by a certain sense of pride, and before Mother could sit back down, Raven was in action. Her blade was one-sided, iron folded over itself inspired by Kuo Kuana. A vicious edge begged for blood, and it got it. The match was over in an instant, Raven drinking from the aura of her enemy until it was brutalized to the point of exhaustion. Her opponent still stood, and Raven refused hesitation, ramming her blade through his thigh. It caught meat, and her opponent bowed down. If she noticed Qrow's abhorrence translated to his face, she kept it privy to herself.

The crowd stayed relatively quiet in response to the excessive performance, but Mother clapped. Raven's mane of hair bobbed from side to side as her hips swung to and fro. A servant offered her a bead, to which she added to the chain around her neck. Once she returned to her seat by the throne, the tourney tarried on.

Surprising nobody in the tribe, the Chief's children were the last challengers left in the ring of thorns. Qrow and Raven became twin Nevermores, perched for their fight. He noted that Raven had painted two read beads below her eyes, and her mask crowned much higher than his. She gripped her sheath longingly, wistful for the thrill of battle. It was horrifying. Qrow refused to show it, though. Hopefully his horrible Semblance would prove to be of some use.

"Just as nature commands," Mother smiled to Qrow, "may the strongest win." Raven rushed Qrow's way, her hand sitting on her hilt. He planned for this, though; Qrow's aura flared, and he spent some on causing some misfortune. The energy wisped away, and he was left with drawing up Quill to take a slash. Unlike Overseer Haathee, Raven's expertise was the specific distance of an arm-and-a-half away, where Qrow couldn't swing. This led to a solid encounter of ducking and hiding behind Quill, which led him down the path to losing.

Raven began to push him to the edge of the ring. As Qrow backed himself closer to the stakes, his hopes of winning began vanishing into the vast black of Raven's waves. She continued her assault. Instead of a slash, she opted for a stab. A disrespectful stab, one her weapon wasn't made for. Just to show she could afford to make mistakes. Sadly, she was right.

Qrow's right foot braced back, creating a perfect opportunity for Raven to topple him over, back against the stake. Atypical of his retreating style, Qrow shifted his weight from his back to his front, and his right hook connected to Raven's jaw. A section of her mask broke off, revealing a smarmy snarl and a renewed vigor in the crooks of her mouth. The bone sputtered to the floor, and Qrow used her passionate anger against her. She resorted to bigger swipes across the chest, which were easy to duck under and bunt her stomach back, creating space for him to escape back to the middle of the ring. It was obvious she'd win if she could stay close. Qrow just had to stay far.

The twins silently eyed each other. The crowd didn't get the memo, their awe being a voice of the conflict. They couldn't understand how far Qrow was playing behind. Mother did.

"Son, you've seem to have forgotten something." A broadsword dropped into the circle, moving the dust. A thick blade, dual sided, seemingly designed to quell back quick fighters. Easy to defend with, and enough weight to break through the meek constitution of a thin, folded sword like Raven's.

"Use it well."

"No. I'm fine."

Qrow wasn't fine, though. Raven's snarl returned, and she pressed the attack. Again, shoving him back, she wizened up to his cheaper defenses and shunted him into a corner. Quill held its own, but any lapse in his defense would be a straight loss.

By some stroke of misfortune, Raven's sheath fell from her belt, demanding her attention. She was too close for a scythe swipe, so Qrow's hips threw a nasty hook towards Raven's unbroken side.

He smashed bone into bone, staggering Raven's onslaught. There was a critical decision to be made: slide back and hope Quill could end the fight, or teach his bitch of a sister some humility. The latter was too delicious to pass up.

His weight moved once more, following up with an uppercut to her chin, forcing some bone shrapnel into the bottom of face. Her aura wasn't expecting an uppercut, it was expecting some escape maneuver. Tiny cuts formed on the bottom of Raven's countenance, and the crowded oozed with glee. The shame bubbled up Raven's rage, and the match was soon over. Qrow was easily overpowered now that his adrenaline gave way to laughter, and Raven wanted to pick his carrion clean.

* * *

The Chief's hut was grand in comparison to the rest of the camp. While Raven was out parading her win, Qrow smugly returned home. Yeah, he lost the tourney. But second place wasn't bad, especially when Raven's high and mighty chin took an unexpected hit. She'd have to meet all of her -admittedly not too crazy about her- fans with blood dripping from her chin. In exchange, Qrow's head buzzed with euphoria and the solid thwacking his sister beat into him. Completely worth it. Qrow reached beneath his bed, drawing out a bag of celebratory wine.

The entrance curtain drew back, to reveal Mother.

"You should be out parading yourself."

He didn't bother responding. Qrow hated people, and she should've known that.

"Still, good work Qrow."

"You mean great work. Second is nothing to scoff at," he responded with, words filled with angst. Mother took her spot next to her bed, in a regal chair nobody dared to touch.

"It is, when you had two opportunities to be first."

Qrow reached for the bag of wine and let slurps be his retort.

"The strongest didn't win. If you had simply used my gift, or struck Raven instead of destroying her mask, you could have proven yourself worthy of being Chief."

"I don't want to be Chief. Let Raven."

"Your sister is weaker than you. We must lead by example. Allow me to mold you into the man you can truly be. A man of power. A man of finesse. Let go of your ridiculous mercy and follow the path I've made for you."

"No."

Mother sighed. "I hope you change your mind. If not, you've doomed the Tribe, Qrow. Your home." And with that guilt trip, she was gone.

No wonder he had to drink.

* * *

Once his brooding was finished, Qrow appeared in the feast hall to an uproar of cheering. Men and women he had known his whole life circled around him, praising him for the work out in the ring of thorns. He swapped out his battle hide and leather for a decently ceremonious white tunic, unmarked and untainted by anything Branwen. It was a miracle he didn't stain it wine red.

"You showed Raven quite a thrashing, didn't you?" Overseer Haathee claimed, joining in the mini-crowd. Qrow liked him, and that was saying something. People are annoying, and a pain in the ass to deal with.

"Ishh no big deal," he smiled happily.

"Ya damn kid," he said, slapping his back. Instead of causing Qrow any pain, Overseer Haathee's back seized up and his face contorted to comedic pain. His friends laughed, but Haathee eyed Qrow with some discontent.

"Damn bad luck charm," he laughed. Except it was the kind of a laugh that was only made to seem like it was comedy. It was a thinly veiled accusation in actuality, and it was sad and it sucked. Qrow followed Haathee to a circular table in which they shared some mirthful conversation, but Haathee still seemed sore. One less friend, Qrow guessed. The men ate their fill, mostly food grown from the nearby villages. Maybe Mother even bought the meat; that would be something.

The hall's conversation came to a close as Mother entered the feast hall with Raven at her side. Haathee and his friends dropped their meat as a sign of respect, but Qrow was too hungry to care for that.

"Today, everyone of the Branwen Tribe fought with fortitude and dignity. We eat in their celebration."

The tribe cheered.

"However, only two fought with strength."

The tribe listened intently for when they were to react.

"My twins, Qrow and Raven, have proven themselves to be the brightest the Branwens have. We eat in their celebration."

The sheep cheered with glee.

"To secure a stable future, we will cultivate our strongest to be the strongest in all of Anima. Tribe, eat as a celebration of Qrow and Raven's departure, as we will send them to Haven Academy to turn the strong into the strongest. And upon their return, let them lead us into a golden age for the tribe!"

Raven bowed and her eagerness infected the entire tribe. They cheered and cheered and everyone turned to congratulate Qrow, envious of his pilgrimage to see the rest of the world.

Qrow dropped the bone he was picking at, horrified.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks for stopping by! I'll be updating the fic the 1st and 15th of every month, and if I'm not, I'll make sure to tell you a chapter in advance._

 _My editor advised me to use less convoluted language. For Chapter 2 onwards, I'll do just that._

 _Obviously, we're not in the fun stuff yet. The love story, team STRQ's shenanigans, and the power dynamic Ozpin will have with the team, etc. is going to be fun to explore. But, we need a solid base and establish the difference between our twins: mercy and brutality. The dense prose of this chapter will be typical of action scenes, but that's such a small portion of what I have planned. That'll set the stage for the juicy conflict we all know is going to happen._

 _It'll be unfortunate if the next volume refutes everything in my fic, but oh well. We'll keep going._

 _We have fun character drama coming up in the next chapter. Hope you stay with me!_

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	2. Chapter 2: One Single Step

Chapter 2: One Single Step

* * *

"Fucking Branwens," Qrow muttered to himself. Being the heir to the chiefhood was already a huge pain in the ass, but adding some insane sojourn to gather up power and lead the Tribe into a stronger foothold in Anima was ridiculous.

On top of it, Haven Academy? A fucking huntsman school. A school for the righteous to offer up their livelihood for the common good, slaying Grimm to help people. Sure, that would attract the virtuous and naive fools who would sacrifice so much, but it would also bring the smarmy who needed to learn to hold their own. Those who unlock their aura and get a taste of winning. The people who like to hurt people for their own gain. Even if they somehow jumped this laundry list of hurdles, they were wanted criminals. Being a prince of a tribe who steals food from innocents wasn't the best background for a huntsman.

Nobody thought this through.

Except for him of course, but Qrow was too smart to put forth any of his ideas. It was doomed to fail, but Mother wasn't going to renege on her decision. 'Mistakes are lessons to improve,' she'd say. Somehow she forgot the improve part at the end, because sending young criminals to a school for the law was nothing short of idiotic. What made matters worse was Raven's enthusiasm.

"We need the chance to learn," Raven resolved. The idea reverberated around the Chief's abode, becoming an echo chamber where she assured herself it was the best idea.

"The only reason you're happy about this mess is because you don't have to stay. You can just portal home, have lunch here, and portal back to poor little Qrow, whose stuck in Mistral," he spat.

"Yes, I wouldn't mind time off from you." Raven tried a sarcastic smile, but she was much more successful at the sarcasm than the smile.

The Tribe began amassing their gifts, words of wisdom, and goodbyes for the two little nomads. The first one to enter was one of Raven's many teachers for battle, and they shared a quaint conversation where Qrow played third wheel. They talked, they chatted, and the conversation ended in an awkward hug where he wrapped his arms around Raven, who just sat there. Uncomfortable, the mentor shuffled out and in came a woman who looked oddly familiar. Tall and petite. A little too pale. Dumb, blue eyes. Honestly, Qrow couldn't remember the poor girl's name, which was sad given her first words.

"Oh baby, I'm going to miss you," she said, pulling Qrow into a tight embrace. "Remember me when you're chief, okay?" High pitched, baby voice! Ah, he remembered her. She was the one who kept acting like a mother to him, which made the fun times a bit strange. They shared a quick kiss, and she waved her hand daintily with sultry eyes.

"Disgusting. All she wanted was power, nothing more." Raven rolled her eyes. Qrow gave her a friendly elbow to the side and said, "C'mon, the ladies love me."

She wasn't convinced. The next person to say their goodbyes was much shorter and possessed a thick figure. Qrow's first thought was she could crush melons with those melons. His second thought was a feeling of deja vu. Her voice was also high and shrill, and avoided Raven's gaze just like the last. In her hand was a bottle of wine stolen from a nearby vineyard, and while giving it over, her hand lingered just a little too long on Qrow's. She offered him a peck on a cheek and was on her way.

"Please stop," Raven demanded. He wasn't sure if it was directed towards the girls or his eyebrows that he kept raising at her.

"You need to get laid," Qrow sat back down, her resolute chastity shutting down his fun time.

A somber encounter followed. Raven was beloved by the ones close to her and feared by the masses, and Qrow was well-loved by everyone, keeping them all at arm's length. The servant who dressed Raven when she was younger actually cried in her arms and Raven tried to empathize. Her barely-warm eyes made Qrow chuckle into his arm and passed it off as a cough to not ruin the moment. Following her was the twins' wet nurse, who gave Qrow some mixed feelings. Wine's familiar taste had to come from somewhere, after all.

The next one was a fellow warrior Qrow had crushed during the tournament. His abs were profound, his aura plentiful, and his smile big. Coming up to Qrow for a big handshake and congratulations, Qrow swelled with pride. He and the warrior shared a passionate conversation about the battle with Raven, and he pulled Qrow up by the shoulders. Arms resting there, the warrior said, "Don't have too much fun without me, baby," winked, and open his broad palm to slap Qrow's ass.

Qrow watched proudly bewildered, as the warrior strut out the tent with a giddy pep in his step. Unsure what to say, Qrow looked over to Raven, who stifled an awkward laugh with a red face herself.

"Not only the ladies," Qrow winked, unleashing the laugh held back.

"Don't have too much fun without me," Raven tried to hold back. "Baby!" Her self-control became unhinged and gave way to full-blown laughter, but Qrow didn't think of it at his expense. He joined the chuckling, and they finished the rest of the goodbyes in a sunny mood.

Every play has its end, and their play was over when the Chief returned. They shared a brief conversation about the day's events, Mother trying to convince her twins that the crowdfunded knowledge was a good one. To be quite frank, there was no knowledge to be had, and this was Qrow's first time actually speaking to her after her rash announcement that the two were leaving for Haven. Undoubtedly his face read rage and contempt, as it peppered his thoughts and gripped his throat. He knew better than to oppose her. His opposition would have resulted in him being tossed out of the Tribe and left to fend for himself, which would've ended up the same way as just sticking to the plan. Instead of attacking the idea, Qrow attacked Mother's logic and how she thought this sojourn was supposed to progress.

"We're the heirs to a Tribe who makes a livelihood on stealing from villages in Mistral. I don't think Haven would take kindly to us."

"No, _you're_ the heir," the Chief reminded Qrow. "As for getting into Haven, I will not think for you. That responsibility falls on you two."

"As you wish," Raven acquiesced.

"How can we ask for help if something goes poorly?" Qrow pressed. The Chief had banned all scrolls, with the intention of keeping their location hidden. If they seriously were taking the road down to Mistal, it'd be a long walk made longer by killing any Grimm along the way. Having a Plan B was more important than having a Plan A.

"I'll use my Semblance to make a portal to Mother," Raven said cooly.

"Yes, _you_ will, where is Qrow's escape plan?" he asked sardonically.

"Escapes tend to be a step back. We need you to step forward, Qrow." The Chief maintained.

Okay, so to piece all of his jigsaw back together, Mother was kicking him out to attend huntsman school and get an education to lead the Tribe. Qrow was to walk with his sister down an incredibly long road teeming with Grimm, apply and get into Haven without documented combat experience, spend the next years in their huntsman training program without being detected as bandits, fight like a hero, and return home to become a villain. That was five things. Five giant, grueling, unwavering things to be done, and Qrow had no say in the matter.

And they wondered why he drank.

* * *

The morning after lost its tense atmosphere and exchanged it for a resigned curiosity. Even the long road ahead would have a better feel than the insanity the Tribe had become over the last few days. A return to practice battles and days of killing time in the hut alone would be impossible. No more reading at candlelight with a cup of wine, no more playful romps in other beds. Qrow sighed his way out of bed, and began looking through the packs Mother had prepared. Clothes. Some rudimentary hides and tunics. Two pairs of underwear. No extra boots. A light sleeping cloth. Surprisingly, a scroll. Anything that couldn't be made in the wilderness was extremely valuable, as it had to be stolen from a nearby village. Scrolls were virtually attached to the person it belonged to, so taking one was a feat in itself.

"Get a suit in Mistral. A school won't accept two vagrants such as yourselves."

Mother lead them past the circle of thorns, past the family and people they'd known all their lives. Raven made seldom waves, Qrow made none. Not a single one of those jackasses knew what Qrow thought, nor did they take the time to care. Some were nice, others were hot, but that's where his mindfulness of them stopped.

"The strongest will survive," she said, pushing the twins out of the world they knew all their life.

"C'mon, no 'I love you?'" Qrow detested.

"Shut up, Qrow. She's getting there," Raven bantered.

"No I'm not. Go be strong, my children." The Chief turned her back on her children, and walked back towards the tribesmen who came to watch them go. Everyone had said their goodbyes, but Qrow owed none of them anything.

Raven looked back and waved, and instead, Qrow started their journey with a heavy step.

"We have about 1,000 lien. We should restock in Shion, the village outskirts are coming up soon. Their meat should be cheaper than what's ahead," Raven said, peering down at a mediocre map that only truly detailed what was around their spot in Anima. There were landmarks between the Tribe and Mistral, but how far the walk would be was up to interpretation. As such, Raven opted for cautious and patient use of their resources. Qrow was already hungry.

"For someone so slow and deliberate, you sure are stupid. Shion knows our faces, we'll get chased out with torches. We should just keep going until we're out of this neck of the woods," Qrow asserted.

"No, you're stupid. We have such little food, we aren't going to make it. Do you want to eat Grimm dust?" Raven responded, her calm demeanor losing its facade. Not a good idea to escalate that, especially while wandering out in Grimm territory.

"I could steal some grains with Quill," Qrow shrugged, trying to defuse the situation.

"And do what, brew beer?"

"Not a bad idea," Qrow said, tongue-in-cheek.

Raven cracked what little smile she had.

"Want to just steal everything along the way?" Qrow compromised.

"Why didn't I think of that? We're to act like paragons of virtue, not be them. It's the Branwen way," she returned.

"I could use some new boots," Qrow agreed, sharing a smile with his sister.

The next leg of the journey was an laborious but somewhat pleasant walk. Some Grimm showed up, but it was nothing the two couldn't handle. They were used to fighting people, which tends to be harder than fighting dumb animals that were just looking for negative feelings. Their bellies were full and their packs were light, after stealing everything they needed from villages like Shion. Qrow kept a killcount, and Raven acted like it was childish. It was a much better time than fighting everyone and their mother in the Tribe, that was certain.

In time, they came upon a village which had a sign out front naming itself "Shishi: The Hometown of Lionheart." Only villages with a decent amount of money would spend (more like waste) money on a sign out front. This village must've had plenty to go around, as well as an ego. Reason enough to bulgararize it. The village had two sets of walls surrounding it, the outer one even being stone. It really was a rich place.

"Huntsmen!" a guard bellowed in a rather positive tone. Shishi must've needed some fighters. It was fine, really. Huntsman was a better excuse to lug around a giant scythe and a faunus sword than "I just left my village of criminals and plan on stealing some food behind your backs." Their clothes spelled local though; perhaps it would be a good time to get that suit.

Raven and Qrow strolled in through the gates, greeting the guardsmen. The twins claimed their visit was to find a contract for killing Grimm, and were pointed in the general direction of the village's center. Small shops bordered the square, forcing the barkeep to mingle with the farmer selling her goods, the farmer with the barber, and so on. Children ran around, calling out each others' names amidst some immature games. Their parents watched on, conversing with each other about sports and the like. Nobody was mad. It looked like a pleasant place where normal, hard working folks could live happily with their bosses finely dining looming over the horizon.

"I don't like it here," Raven commented.

"Agreed. Gives me the creeps."

What piqued their curiosity more than food was a large, open building which had motorcycles out front. All lined up, a mix of matte, glossy, and gorgeous. Whoever owned the store must've been selling them to the rich folk, and there must've been plenty given the amount of product outside. One of those bikes and another scroll would be incredibly useful, hastening their pace and allowing the two to split up properly. Plus, driving one would be so much fun. Acting like they'd crash into a tree and then pulling away at the last second for comedy's sake. Sounds grand.

"Tempting," Raven said, obviously of the same mind.

"No, the guy who sells them must have some sort of security. Let's find the people who buy them instead," Qrow said. That nugget of knowledge and the others of its kind cemented Qrow as the thinker of the two. When he wasn't filling his mouth with wine, anyway. It was funny that she accepted it so fast.

Thus they kept walking, meandering down the streets of the more expensive part of the town. Houses made of stone. Kind of disgusting, how wasteful that was of the lien. The kids in the center of town could have shoes instead. Shishi was kind of disgusting in that regard: a ridiculously clear juxtaposition of those with and those without. That sort-of-not-really justified the bike they were about the steal, but hopefully they'd never need to share their reasoning.

Their walk continued until the two came upon a rather large home (on this street, that meant a lot) with a wooden sign that proudly presented "Home of Lionheart." Qrow took out 'his' scroll.

' _nobody would ever dare stealing from celebrities'_ Qrow wrote, handing it off to his sister. She rebuked it with an uneasy nod, and the twins disappeared into a tavern to kill some time till it was dark out. Casing and driving a getaway bike would be difficult tipsy, so he opted to only have three glasses of wine. A mild buzz.

"What's your Plan B?" Raven asked.

"Don't worry about it. I got it." Honestly, it was just to run to the walls as fast as possible and hope the Grimm scared everyone off.

"Alright."

They returned at a snail pace, and carefully inspected the outside of the Home of Lionheart. Lights were on upstairs. A wooden garage door, which was garish in smaller villages closer to the Tribe. This place really was full of assholes. Why waste money on a garage? A gate led to a fenced off backyard. They must've had a bike, being the titular family of Shishi, and they must've had a scroll somewhere.

After looking both ways, Raven crossed the street. Then, she hopped over the gate, leading Qrow to the backyard. Even worse: a sliding door. Why do sliding doors exist? To waste more money? Shishi must've been a nice place, as the door was unlocked despite nobody being downstairs. The two slipped into the back room, and Qrow pointed to himself and mouthed 'scroll' and mouthed 'keys' to her. Raven's eye creased in annoyance, but she padded off towards the front door to check for keys.

Qrow, opting to stay downstairs, made a round for all the bedrooms. One downstairs had a cute 'Leo' on the front of it, which made for an easy picking. He know one Leo, and he was an asshole. This one was snoring very loudly, which made him an asshole too. Qrow tiptoed in, facing a giant man probably ten years his senior cuddling a body pillow like it was a lover. On it was a regal looking tiger-faunus decked out in red. If that wasn't disturbing enough, a wall scroll with the same woman on his pillow hung above his bed. She was saying, "You can do it, nya!"

Qrow shuddered. Every man has his vice, he supposed. Drinking was better than whatever Leo's problem was.

He made his way towards this man's desk, where a stack of papers lived, flung around like the reader was angry. The top read 'Haven Academy,' which was terrifying. Under it was a long list of names. God, this guy was important. He must've been a Professor or something. Stealing this scroll would be a horrible idea.

So he did.

Qrow really wanted to leave an autograph, because how hilarious would that be, but he just took the man's purse of lien and left the room. Down the corridor, Raven was creeping into a dark room, and Qrow followed. Inside _was_ a garage, and it was floored with stone. Why waste stone on the floor? This Lionheart family was full of assholes. He already hated Haven, and he wasn't even close to it.

By the time Qrow was in, Raven was trying to start the bike. The ignition failed every time, to her chagrin.

"Go back inside," Raven whispered. "It was working before you were here."

Annoyed but understanding, he headed back inside. Damn Semblance.

He heard the bike roar to life. Loudly. The jig was up, and they had to leave. Qrow ran in to open the garage door, but when he did, the bike sputtered out. Raven got off, shoved her brother back into the house, and hit the button herself.

Footsteps upstairs. Oh no.

He propped open the door for his escape, and the bike died.

"Stay! Plan B!" Qrow regretted not having a better Plan B. So he stayed, and the bike finally made it out of the house and into the dirt street. Finally, he could get through the damn door, but there was a scream behind him.

"Leo!" the woman yelled. "Leo, we're being robbed!"

Qrow sighed. Time for a jog. He also ran out the garage, but using his massive and buzzed brain, instead looped around for the backyard. Anyone's first instinct would be to follow the bike in assumption the two would want to stay together.

Honestly, he should've assigned himself to the bike. Curse his good nature. Qrow cleared their back fence by vaulting over it with Quill and assumed he was in the clear. Rich and intelligent were typically mutually exclusive.

Until the hulk of a man that was asleep not two minutes ago smashed through his own fence into the backyard of his neighbor. Qrow refrained from looking back, as Leo recognizing him at Haven would ruin his chances at school. A Professor would surely love the students that rudely woke him up to steal his bike. Again, Qrow vaulted up to the neighbor's balcony using Quill, and hit the deck. A towel hung, drying. He wrapped it about his face to blend in to the night. A Haven Professor wouldn't let in the kid who robbed him.

Leo's face was strange; instead of fury, he looked apprehensive to have broke a fence, guilty to be trespassing in the middle of the night, and paranoid to be seen. He wore a large, manly beard that put Qrow's soul patch to shame. His mane of hair tried to evoke the feeling of a powerful lion, but it didn't intimidate Qrow like it should've. No baleful rage hellbent on taking his robber to the pain train, he just wanted this to be over. Honestly, the faunus could've ripped Qrow to shreds. He was just too nice to do it.

Instead of jumping up to the balcony like he could've Leo knocked on his neighbor's back door. Qrow had to hide his laughter; their conversation was hilarious.

"Good evening, I think one of the men who, uh, stole my motorcycle is hiding in your home. I'm terribly sorry for the fence."

"Don't worry, Leo. You can do it!" Qrow quipped. "Nya!"

Qrow was immediately regretful. Not for dignity's sake, but he wouldn't be able to enjoy the look on Leo's face. Such a nice guy with such a dark secret. Maybe he could spread a rumor through Haven. He saved those thoughts for a better occasion, now it was time to run.

He bashed his way into the upper level of the house, Leo intending to pursue him once he had the permission to. Bracing his shoulder for impact, Qrow broke through glass of the master bedroom out to one street over his original target.

Wings would have been very nice.

He redirected his aura to protect him from the glass as he rolled the momentum out, and Qrow dashed down the street. Adrenaline was truly a sobering thing. Guardsmen were called too slowly, focused on the motorcycle speeding over one of the walls. How misfortunate.

The twins left Shishi a fat purse, a scroll, and a motorcycle richer.

* * *

 _A/N: Wow, we're moving fast!  
_

 _As an author, I wanted Qrow's "before Beacon" phase to be about 20% of the story. As a reader, I wanted Team STRQ's antics now. So I compromised, and we will be meeting Ozpin next chapter, Summer in Chapter 4._

 _I've made the language more accessible to everyone. If I need to do that again, feel free to leave a review saying as much. Your feedback helps, and is extremely appreciated! Scenes are being compressed and condensed and it's sad, but we're not reading a novel here._

 _See you next month!_

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	3. Chapter 3: The Lion's Den

Chapter 3: The Lion's Den

* * *

Raven drove. It took Qrow a good four days before learning how to reset the scroll and make it properly his. Well, not his, but under the amazing alias Bran Ravenwen. Scrolls were entirely new to the twins, as the Chief back home barred anyone from the Tribe from using them. She claimed they could be tracked. But Qrow stole a scroll once and nothing bad happened for a week, so Mommy's royal decrees must've been less intelligent than she thought. Oh well. Once in, there was a camera application, and Qrow left his mark on the device by recording himself saying a bunch of obscenities with a smile. The words could be barely heard over the roar of Leo's bike.

Luckily, the scroll still connected to Mistral's CCT tower. Qrow downloaded a map after his recording, eager to know where they were. He navigated when Raven wasn't asleep, and they took what Qrow called "Ass Breaks (Shut Up, It Chafes)," for a few hours each day.

The bike made the journey so much better. Living in the Animan wild gifted them both with the ability to nap on battlefields, on hunts, even on the run. Sleeping on the back of a motorcycle, drooling on his sister's back was nicer than using rocks as pillows. The few people they passed by were mesmerized. Red eyes, black hair, dark hide jerkins, a motorcycle. A very badass image, betrayed by Qrow's drool.

The only thing to interrupt their journey was a Bullhead passing overhead, moving so much faster than they did. Qrow looked at it in envy.

On the last leg of the journey, Raven got to sleep in an actual bed. The twins were refuelling in a quaint town, sponsored by Leo's purse. No need to steal. A poor man, convinced the two were a team of huntsmen, approached them to ask for help to find his daughter. Raven dismissed the idea, saying they couldn't trust him. Qrow couldn't leave a little girl to die, so he set out to help him.

While Raven slept soundly in the town's inn, Qrow went out with the poor man into the outskirts of the village, where the old man lured him into an ambush. No lost little girl. Just six men surrounding Qrow, thinking they could take him and steal whatever contract pay he had on him. Most of them had auras; this must've been a normal occurrence for them. Unfortunately for the dumb bastards, being above Raven's level meant being above dumbass villagers with swords, so he beat them sideways for taking advantage of his trusting nature and looted their purses while they 'slept' in the middle of the Mistral forest. After collecting his pay for a day's hard work, Qrow returned to the inn. Raven woke up as soon as the door to their room opened.

"How did it go?" Raven said, wiping the residual sleep from her eyes.

"Pretty nice. Found his kid playing with some Grimm before it was too late," he nodded.

Raven seemed pleasantly surprised. "Maybe the world isn't as bad as I thought." Qrow chuckled.

* * *

The routine tarried on for the next two days and finally the city of Mistral was in the horizon. The road traffic picked up, and there were a few actual cars milling about, kicking up dirt for the poor travellers making their way on foot. Villages became a constant, as Qrow imagined trade would be much easier next to a CCT tower and an urban hub of people. Something like that would be nice to settle down in: still doing some people's work by putting down some Grimm, still get some peace and quiet, and no fucking Branwens. All good for a man's sanity. If he was ever lucky enough, that kind of life would be nice.

"We should probably sell it before we make it to the gates," Qrow said on an Ass Break (Shut Up, It Chafes), pondering what city life would be like. Probably shit. A city where poor people got to live at the bottom of a waterfall watching their kids they sacrificed for the common good learning how to become killing machines. Constantly looking up to see homes that they couldn't own, governments they couldn't participate in properly. Wasn't his problem.

They just needed clothes to make it past the gates. Their mission wasn't to solve poverty, Qrow reminded himself.

"Indeed."

"You sell it to some rich man with too much naivete for his own good, and I'll go get us some clothes," Qrow continued.

"No," she replied. "Give me the job with less talking."

He sighed. The scroll beeped off, signalling lunch time the end of Ass Break (Shut Up, It Chafes). Qrow insisted on saying it every time. Raven unhappily drove the two down to the closest outskirt to the gate leading up Mistral's hill and they set about their work. Still dressed in bandit hides, Qrow tried his hand at a new career path: a used car salesman. He was less than approachable with a weapon at his back and leaning up against the bike, though. After about an hour sitting at the roadside, waiting for rich people to walk through, he changed his plan.

He parked up against the local tavern and waltzed in with a big smile. Plopping down on a seat, Qrow was dead set on getting rid of this thing, whether he'd get money for it or not. He picked something from the middle of the bar's menu to eat, and gandered at the drinks. The names of all the wines sounded unintelligible at best, so he instead looked at the bottles on the shelves behind the bar. A bottle of whiskey near the top caught his attention, so he ordered a glass neat. Turned out it wasn't too bad. So he drank some more. And some more.

In the two hours he sat there, he downed four whole glasses of top-shelf Mistral whiskey. When he was done and time came to pay, Qrow dropped the bike keys on the counter and walked out.

The barman angrily chased him out the door, but Qrow pointed to his new gift. Confused, the barman let him go, and Qrow sauntered off. He felt like the exchange was a decent one. A good lunch and a good buzz for "his" motorcycle.

When he finally tracked down Raven in a department store, his first thought was that she actually looked pretty good. Instead of her bandit hides and leathers that screamed sexual enthusiast, she bought a crimson red dress and some socks that went really high. The dressed matched her eyes and the socks went with her hair. The dress was kinda fluffy. The outfit made her boobs look good. It'd be a good outfit if the twins had to charm their way into anything, but that would mean Raven would have to keep her mouth shut. Raven looked great until she stabbed your eyes with a look of daggers. It would probably be real stabs, too. Qrow wouldn't put it past her.

"Who are you and what did you do with Raven?" Qrow's inebriation asked.

"Shut up. I asked for sizes and left with this."

"Mm. Looks kick-ass. Like a beautiful, bandit queen killing machine."

She squinted her eyes, not entirely used to compliments. Beauty and aesthetics were of low priority, but it felt nice to look nice. Whatever. He was just drunk. He'd never say that of his own volition.

"How'd the motorcycle go?" She deflected.

"Sold it for a lunch and four glasses of whiskey!" He said ecstatically. Raven, instead of giving him a look of fury, released a sigh of relief.

"Good to hear we both did poorly, because this is what you have to wear…"

* * *

The guards at Mistral's Northern gates peered out to the villages beyond the city walls. A wilderness that poor folks lived in. In the city, however, everything was different. Unlike the outside savages, who built stick barriers to defend themselves from Grimm, standing armies defended the huge cities of innovation. Outside: farms. Wilderness. Grimm. Inside: highways. Department stores. Cafes. Light rails. Huntsmen and huntresses. Civilization and society. People who grew up in the walls were fundamentally different than the poor schmucks raised in constant danger of Grimm, who could only imagine owning a car. Even worse than those good citizens were the damn bandits. Spineless thieves who hid from the law of cities to steal from the little brothers outside. Bandits were scum. Grimm were preferable to them.

That's why when direct orders from Lionheart himself warned about a team of two bandits wearing some dark brown leather, the guards were on high alert. Given their pace Leo tracked from four days' worth of scroll locations, the bandits should have arrived at their gates a few hours ago. But no men with dark hair had asked for entry. No motorcycles. No bandits. Everybody had clear IDs with clear destinations, and the team of bandits allegedly had no motive. They must've personally wronged Lionheart to warrant such a party when they came back.

Forty men from the Mistral Civil Guard were armed and ready for whatever the motorcycle-stealing, scroll-using evildoers would do to their city. Leo prepared them for the worst.

That's why it couldn't have possibly been the bandits when a gorgeous young lady with a huge mane of black hair accentuated with her thigh high socks walked up to the Northern Mistral gate. The man next to her, though… These two must've been ready to party. He wore thick aviator sunglasses accented with gold. His button-down shirt may have been too tight, as the top four buttons were unfastened, giving the guards an unwanted peek into the man's workout routine. Honestly, he was pretty jacked. The bangles on his left wrist? How fabulous. Just some rich couple coming through.

"Fucking Branwens can't even shop right," Qrow said. Definitely didn't match his fabulous clothes.

"The clothier said most young and wealthy men look for something like that. Faunus here in Mistral have hair on their chest." Raven, in trying to justify her decision, did her famous smug giggle.

"Why pay so much for a shirt with fake buttons?" Qrow demanded in a vexed tone. Whatever. At least it gave him an excuse to show off his abs. A less flamboyant way would've been nice. A lot of things would have been nice, actually. Like some more of that whiskey.

The Northern guards were too busy staring at two open and inviting shirts to remember that they were looking for a man with black hair and a scythe. The twins ecstatically walked in, ready to see what the capital of their continent had to offer. An impoverished man was being threatened by his loan sharks 20 feet from the Northern Post where guardsmen could obviously see him.

"What a nice Mistral welcome," Raven scathingly commented.

"They let a pair of bandit royalty in, are blind to muggings, and…" Qrow trailed off, looking at what Mistral misconstrued as beautiful. Their city was built into a mountain, a beautiful and benign waterfall serving as their skeleton to build on. As he gazed up at the top of the mountain, he noticed a nice color gradient emerge. The stark black and whites of the bottom, noted with grays and browns and the other drab colors of urban life, weaved into the blue of the falls and the rising money, to crescendo at the top of the mountain where the red and gold of Haven spread out from every angle. The whole point of a city was to not live in the wilderness like the villages, but urban life didn't seem like it was much better than in The Tribe. Mistral guards miserly counted their bribes as crime ran rampant. People traded stolen motorcycles for top-shelf whiskey. Anyone could do practically anything they wanted, given enough money. That freedom was fun, but fun didn't build great societies.

At least it made their journey much easier. He didn't think they'd be able to just walk through the gates how they wanted. It was nice that the whole 'stealing from Shishi' thing didn't bite them in the ass.

It seemed if the people ever turned red, the mountain would be a volcano, and Haven would just be a palace of excess that would blow up. Hopefully that anger never came.

"This place blows. Let's leave."

"If only," Raven replied. "Time to get accepted into Haven Academy."

"Raven, we can't just walk up to the gate. We're going to get arrested."

"You always make the decisions. Allow me to show you what I can do."

* * *

The month before the semester started was always brutal for Headmaster Lionheart. With Professors running every which way to get signatures and sign off on funding and building a solid-gold lion statue (screw you Ozpin, lions are better than lemurs) and asking for TAs and complaining about a lack of funding for the TAs and appealing for the council to give them more money to rebuild the amphitheatre because a student broke the concrete with his Semblance and so many things to sign. So many goddamn things to sign. So many. And to make matters worse, Ozpin was making a personal visit to go over some political treaties. Damn Oz. He always thought only of himself. As soon as he saw the guy, Leo wanted to punch him.

"Hello, Leo." Ozpin said, walking into Lionheart's office.

"Oh, you're here so early! Welcome to Haven, Ozpin," he offered in a meek response.

"It seems you're inundated with work," Oz commented, sipping on one of his infamous coffee mugs. This one read ' _#1 Headmaster_ ' across the front, and the symbol of Beacon on the back. It was one of his favorite cups. Whenever he went to a cafe, seeing it filled always gave him a smile. His quip wasn't wrong, however. Lionheart's desk was mounded with manila folders of this, stacks of that, and plans to do who knows what. Mostly his job was to stamp the papers that said 'Council' on the top with his signature and anything that didn't require Haven to pay money. But everyone wanted money. The politics associated with being a headmaster was horrible, as it added so many more layers of work to an already stressful job. Ozpin told him before he officially started that he was a poor, poor soul and that he'd soon regret accepting it. He wasn't wrong. That's why nobody could blame him for just listening to what the council said. Doing what they wanted made his life so much easier.

"Drowning in it, my friend." Lionheart sighed.

"I am more than willing to help," Oz insisted.

"It's fine, Ozpin. I hate involving you in my business." Leo's tone gave off the impression of being nice and not wanting to give Oz more work, but Leo's mind spoke otherwise. The damned fool was always sticking his nose into Haven's business, telling him to do this, asking him for favors to do something else. Sometimes his directions were incredibly vague, like 'Protect the stone.' Other times his directions were so incredibly specific it was anger-inducing, like 'Ship Beacon 10,000 lien worth of coffee grounds.' No, Oz, get your own damn coffee. Beacon already spent at least 10% of its budget on the damned headmaster's favorite beverage. Leo was tired of being pushed around by Oz, and was starting to be at his wit's end.

Oz laughed. Scary timing.

"I'd hate to add to your plate, but your man Abel outside wanted to give you a message. He said that two funnily dressed bandits walked up to the front door and asked to attend Haven. Your guards arrested them and the two are sitting in some of your holding cells."

Lionheart fumed with anger.

The sheer incompetence of his people! How did the two bandits even make it into Mistral when he warned the North gate of their approach? He ordered an express Bullhead, tracked his old scroll, and told them today would be the day. Luck had the criminals walk up to their doorstep, but in what world would that coincidence happen again? And Abel, who was supposed to keep Lionheart's secrets, told Ozpin of all people. Ozpin. The puppeteer that jerked at his strings just to watch him dance.

Lionheart stormed towards the holding cells, intending to use this mistake to teach his guards something. So many problems, so little time. If only they were taken off his hands.

Oz slowly followed, observing the world as he sipped from his mug. Lionheart could've sworn a smile cracked underneath his apathetic facade.

* * *

"We could just portal home," Raven mused. She didn't mention anything about her brilliant plan. Of course. Qrow wasn't sure why he decided to listen to his bird-brained sister to begin with. Maybe it was the remnants of the whiskey. Just walking up to Haven and asking for enrollment would be suspicious in every sense of the word, but she didn't quite get why her plan was wrong. Her insistence on the direct approach was ridiculous. She should've known better, being a bandit princess and all.

Now the twins were stuck in a holding room. Technically detained, pretty much arrested. Four walls of brick surrounded them, and it seemed like one wall held a one-way mirror. A table and four chairs were their only decoration. The doorway looked firm; neither of them bothered trying to touch it. Damn, this really was a bind. Mother cast them out in the world to become stronger, and coming home early in handcuffs wasn't the plan. Qrow vastly preferred weaseling their way out. Their weapons stripped away, the only tool they had at their disposal were their wits. And Raven clearly didn't have any. The pressure was on.

"Raven, I can't believe you're this fucking stupid. How in fuck's name did we make it all the way to Mistral, all the way to Haven, and you have to fuck it all up! And you want us to just go back home and tell Mother how we fucked it up!"

"Shut up. This isn't going to help."

"Sure, that's easy to say when you're being the fucking issue!"

"Qrow. Stop."

"You got us arrested, Raven. Don't tell me to stop. Your dumb ass got us arrested, and now we're sitting in a cell waiting for some fat faunus to question us for days on end, and we're going to get convicted on some bullshit charges by the corrupt police force, and sit in the a cell for the rest of eternity. I just wanted to live in a quiet city for the rest of my life, but no, you and Mother had to mess up my day and my life. Fucking. Branwens."

"Qrow, if you don't stop now, I'm going to dangle you by your feet for as long as we're in here."

"Gee, maybe if you had your fucking hands free, you could!"

"What happened to being the thinker? Shouldn't you be navigating a way out of this for us instead of wasting your breath?"

"Because of you, I'm basically shirtless, in handcuffs, and stuck here with an idiot."

"Maybe it was your Semblance."

"Don't you dare blame this shit on me."

Qrow began fuming, but Raven wouldn't respond. His anger was coming up to a boiling point beneath his skin, and it needed a place to go.

Thankfully, a stroke of serendipity came Qrow's way. The lion entered the room with one of his lackeys. Lionheart tried to emulate his namesake and be the biggest threat in the room, but Qrow just saw a man who kept a kitty poster on his wall and lived with his mother. The entire situation wasn't very threatening, really. Raven could just portal them back home, but that would mean explaining their failure to Mother. It'd be much easier to play the rest of this by ear. That being said, he just wanted to punch something. Actually punch something. But his hands were tied. He would just have to resort to verbal fists instead.

"Before this process starts, I'd like to make you an offer. Answer these questions and I'll consider lessening your sentence. Why are you targeting me? What is the meaning of this? Who sent you two after me?"

Raven sat quietly. Qrow got to do the talking. That gave him an idea. "It'll be hard to get this information out of us Leo," Qrow commented. Leo leaned in, listening intently. The first information he could possibly get out of them.

"But," Qrow continued. "You can do it! Nya~" Qrow pawed at the air effeminately.

Lionheart flushed. Raven smugly giggled, and Qrow's anger turned into a coarse guffaw that pissed off Lionheart even more. His lackey, trying to stifle his laughter at his boss' 'hobbies,' asked if Ozpin could help with the interrogation. He explained that perhaps Leo's personal connection to the two would prevent him from making headway in the interrogation. Despite that making complete sense, Leo looked disgusted.

"Keep that man out of our business," Lionheart said. "You two! The night is up. We're taking you to separate cells until the tomorrow morning, and hopefully you will be more cooperative."

Lionheart led Raven out the door, and his high-functioning freak of a lackey tugged at Qrow's handcuffs to escort him out. The grab seemed practiced. That was horrifying. Raven was ecstatic, because Qrow snored when he was drunk. And when he wasn't drunk, but she wasn't sure if she could tell the difference anymore. On second that, that didn't matter. She had to pay him a visit anyway. Damn it.

* * *

The cell Qrow was put in was much bigger than the interrogation room, and there wasn't a one-way mirror for the Mistralian creeps to peek in from. Just a camera in the corner. Oh well, better than the mirror.

There wasn't any sight of the moon or its shards. Nor was there a waft of fresh air from anywhere. They must've been locked somewhere underground. The only way to tell time at this point was how sleepy the guards were. These couldn't have been the finest Mistral had to offer. If they were, Mistral was doomed. Lead by a cat-loving lion, ran by guards who knew how to 'work' a pair of handcuffs, and robbed by a drunk bandit.

Qrow lazed and loafed and lounged for the next few hours because the motorcycle trip gave him a really strange sleep schedule. Not to mention a chafed ass that the hours in the interrogation room didn't help with. He probably wouldn't end up sleeping until the sun rose, not that he'd know when that was. It wasn't too bad though; getting comfortable in a tiny cell with only a cot wasn't hard when he spent the last week and a half drooling on Raven's back. Sometimes he'd make faces at the camera in the corner. Maybe Lionheart was watching him. He pawed at it for good measure.

Being alone with his thoughts was just like being back home in the Chief's hut. Qrow tried desperately not to think about that quality whiskey. He could've used it right then. And the day before. And the day after. And probably the year after… Shit, getting a hip flask and filling it with that whiskey sounded like a really good idea. Qrow made a mental note to get one of those as soon as he got out.

Then he started counting bricks. Unluckily for him, he had to sneeze after hitting 234, and was forced to start all the way over again.

"99 top-shelf whiskeys on the wall, 99 top-shelf whiskeys…"

Finally, something happened! At the feet end of his cot, a red dot appeared. That red dot tore through the fabric of space and time every which way and grew to envelop half of his room. Raven's Semblance! Hurray! Sadly, it only went one way. Soon, a shoe followed by a thigh-high stepped through and out followed his sister. Qrow was happy to finally see someone!

Wait, he was supposed to be mad at her. Eh, he wasn't anymore.

"Raven, I'm, uh, you know," he tried to apologize quietly. Honestly, the problem wasn't even really resolved. Raven did make everything much harder by getting them detained. But he was complicit in that; it wasn't all her fault. But it still mostly was her fault. He decided to never trust any of her plans ever again, especially if it was a question of freedom or arrest.

"Shut up. I only came here to plan our escape. We don't need this." Raven wasn't good at taking apologies, apparently. That's okay. Qrow wasn't good at giving them.

"He doesn't like this Ozpin character. And the enemy of our enemy is our friend."

She nodded. "If that doesn't work, I'll just take us home. Hopefully it doesn't come to that."

"Really, we should avoid that."

* * *

Lionheart looked at the camera feeds, terrified. One second, the woman was sitting on her cot. The next, a giant carmine ripple appeared accompanied by a low rumbling sound emanating from the speakers, and she walked through her camera feed into her brother's. Lionheart nearly fainted in awe. He muted the audio feed and turned to his lackey.

"We're not dealing with ordinary bandits, Abel. What should we do?" He yelped.

"Yes, _we_ truly aren't," Ozpin added with a gleam in his eye.

"Abel, we can't give them time to rest." Lionheart rushed out of the control room, with his lackey in tow. Ozpin meandered through the corridors in a thoughtful haze, arriving much later than the Mistralian duo.

* * *

"Damn it Raven, you come to my room and make me sleep on the floor?"

"Consider it the condition for your forgiveness."

Just when Qrow's body warmed up the stone floor to the point where sleeping was possible, the wrought metal keeping them from the rest of the world shook. Finally, the lion was back! Lionheart punctuated his return by barking at his lackey, "Abel, keep the man here, I'm taking the woman."

His lackey responded with, "Can I button his shirt, sir? His abs are distracting."

"Do what you must. Just get the job done," a vexed Lionheart responded.

Raven nodded to her brother and followed the big man out of the room. She was lead down a series of corridors that she'd struggle to remember. One particular man caught her eye on the way. A certain man dressed in a drab green with sunglasses more ridiculous than Qrow's. He looked at her while sipping from a cup of coffee. It wasn't a gaze of condemnation, though. One of inspection. As if he was examining her strengths and weaknesses, her motives and her experience. Either that, or he was unashamedly staring at her boobs. Both would've earned a confrontation if she wasn't handcuffed and following one of the most powerful men in Mistral. Headmaster? Seriously? They stole from the wrong pussycat.

* * *

Qrow sat, irritated. This Abel fellow sat in the doorway, inspecting Qrow's every move. It was ridiculous. An interrogation should involve beating and torture, not one-way sexual tension as a guard peeked into Qrow's open shirt. This wasn't a typical Mistralian guard. 'Sephaos' was inscribed on his breast pocket next to his badges. This Abel character was serious. He had done some great things, as his patches showed.

"Alright, you corvian warrior, it's time for a test," Abel said.

"Two plus two is four," Qrow smiled.

"No!" Abel's clenched fists banged against the table in a vain attempt to be menacing. "A corvian warrior such as yourself must have several tricks up his sleeve. Empty them for me."

"Abel, can you stop calling me corvian? And do you mean to literally empty my sleeves?"

"What's wrong, corvian? Don't want to expose your secrets?"

Damn Semblance. Raven got the easy one. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

"You're only prolonging the inevitable. Speak or you will be held until you do."

Raven's room was less lively. She sat at the table, her cuffs chained to it. Every time Lionheart would ask a question, she'd roll her eyes or stare vacantly. There wasn't any point in talking to Lionheart. She had stolen from him, and she would go to jail. No point in helping him discover it, though. She was lucky that Lionheart was her interrogator, as he had no backbone for torture. She was ready for whatever government-sanctioned plots they had. Hooding? Walling? Waterboarding? Nope. Just being chained to a table and being watched. That gave her the power in this situation.

"Why are you targeting me? The Headmaster of Haven? Who put you up to this?"

He was paranoid. Why was he paranoid? That could easily be used against him. He was giving too much. Or maybe he was acting like he was giving something so she could take the bait. What other choice out did she have, though? Eh, might as well push it. She dropped her signature smug giggle to bait him into saying something else.

After his smug show, Lionheart turned around and looked at the mirror as it to make eye contact with someone outside. They had an audience, of course. But who was attending?

"Why me? Why me?" Lionheart repeated in agony, his voice reaching a volume that made the mirror shake.

She had nothing as a response. That pattern continued for a good two hours, and Raven loved watching him squirm. It was a delight. His pain was so funny, his lust to understand fed her happiness.

Eventually, Lionheart left. She had the room to herself again, so she tried to set her head down to sleep. Five minutes later, she was rudely interrupted, but this time by the man in the olive drab.

"Hello, Raven." Where did he get her name from? From when they were talking in the interrogation room? Qrow's cell? He paused to take a sip from his mug.

"My name is Ozpin." He was calm. Composed. He offered his hand for a handshake.

She shook it.

"You yell much less," she observed aloud.

"Mistral intends to lock you two up indefinitely and pin what they can on you. Mostly to prove a point that Lionheart should not be messed with." He sipped from his mug again. He's volunteering information. How nice of him. Why would he do that? Must want something in return. Information was the only thing she had, though. She waited for more.

He laughed. "I like your gusto, Raven. You know something I don't. You aren't scared by chains. You're here because you want to be here."

Her eyebrows furrowed. How did he know that?

"I saw a folded sword and a scythe outside. Which one is yours?"

She paused. Should she? She should.

"The sword," Raven offered.

"A faunus made sword. Yours is shorter than most, and would put it in a different category than a katana. Worn from battle. Thin and fast. Trumps the scythe in most cases."

"Yet he still wins," Raven burned. Ozpin didn't respond to it, though, and continued his line of observation.

"My guess is that you didn't attend a primary school. Every man and woman your age fights with some sort of transformation from melee to a ranged weapon."

"I don't need childish transformations to win."

"Have you heard of dust? A mysterious energy source that humanity barely understands yet relies so much on. Highly volatile, either crystalline or powdered. While still in its complex crystal form, its power is unimaginable but difficult to control. Humanity has honed dust into powder to make it far more easily managed." Ozpin sipped some coffee, smiling.

"Why ask if you explain anyway?" Raven snorted.

"We could add it to your sword. It'd be much more powerful than just a metal stick you stab Grimm with."

"No need for dust."

"You have much more in common with it than you think, Raven. Clearly you two have some battle prowess, to make it all the way to Haven and knock on its door to be enrolled. The two of you have a wicked potential. I believe that you could refine that potential into something more productive than stealing from the headmaster of Haven."

"I agree."

"Dust is triggered by humanity's aura. You must already know what aura is to have made it this far. It's not always combat oriented. Dust runs our trains, powers our machinery. You will not find a stove in Vale that doesn't operate with dust. It's everywhere. It's everything. There are so many uses for dust that it'd be impossible to name all-"

"Ozpin, shut up about dust. Your metaphor is too contrived."

He laughed to his mug, undeterred. "So, you two knocked on Haven's door and asked to attend?"

"Yes." Seems like Ozpin was well-informed about the events from earlier.

"Why is that?"

"Why do you think?"

"I'm a headmaster myself, Raven. I've seen people from all walks of life through my doors. Old men and women. Middle aged villagers who wanted to make a difference. But the only youth who come," he paused for a sip, "are because they grew up with Huntsmen in their lives. Family members. TV. You didn't. You didn't train at a school. You and your brother have rudimentary weapons, weapons that villagers make to stave off Grimm and invasions.

"That sword you have. It's blunted towards the bottom. Cutting through flesh with the top half may wear down a blade, but a blunted bottom means you have been fighting other people."

By now, Raven started listening intently. This Ozpin knew much more than Leo, and was willing to share it. He might be on their side.

"Your Semblance seems powerful," he stated.

"It is."

"You implied you could leave when you want."

"I can."

"You and your brother are still here by choice then. What could make you two stay, I wonder?"

This was a hard one. Could she trust him? Qrow would never let her live it down if she made the wrong decision. His words reverberated in her head: the enemy of their enemy was their friend. What a simple proverb. It didn't account for the intricacies of being locked in a prison forever. There was nothing to read between the lines. There was just Raven staring down at a strange man who might be her only way into a school for Huntsman, the only way to become what the Tribe needed her to be.

She took the chance.

"We want to attend Haven."

Ozpin almost clapped in ecstasy when he heard her words. He knew it was going to be a turning point too. What a rhetorician. Raven immediately regretted her decision.

"Well, I'm sure you know that you can't attend Haven after stealing from their Headmaster. You have wronged Mistral and its people."

Seriously? That's it?

"But you have not wronged Vale, Raven. I would rather you join my school than return home and let your potential go to waste," Ozpin said, leaning back in the chair across from her. "I think it would benefit the both of us."

* * *

 _A/N: This is_ g _ood training for NaNoWriMo! If you're doing it too, message me! I'd love to have some buddies. And thanks for reading! Shoutout to WonderWiz for his review. My editor hates spoilers so I didn't respond, but I hope this chapter gave you an answer._

 _Also, there are at least four references to Couer fics in this chapter and one to a high-quality crossover author. Can you spot them all?_


	4. Chapter 4: A Green Season

Chapter 4: A Green Season

* * *

"Ozpin, that is not what we agreed upon!" Lionheart stamped his foot against the tile, enraged. Instead of interrogating the captives, he went and offered them a spot at his school. Ridiculous. Absolutely ludicrous.

"What good will they do rotting in a Mistral prison? She wants to be a huntress. Hopefully her brother feels the same way." He sipped the last of his coffee, aghast it was gone. "I'm taking criminals Mistral would have to pay for to Vale. Besides, who is to say that they will accept?"

* * *

"Yep, I accept, no questions asked."

"Wait, Qrow, I have a couple of questions," Ozpin offered. Visibly unperturbed, his mind raced, considering the new information. This wasn't the thinker that Raven had praised him as, the man who could slip out of any situation. No resistance whatsoever.

"What is there to ask? There's no reason for you to lie to me. Even if you did, whatever trap you have waiting for me in Vale is preferable to being locked up in Mistral. Making an offer like that to a pair of twins you don't know at all is a huge shot in the dark and a risk for you. Oz, you're banking on my sister and I to be good people, and that takes big balls. It's also perfect for me. Why wait?" That was the most Qrow had ever said all at once in ten years, wow. But he wasn't lying. All of it was true. But Ozpin needed to be swayed from incredulity. So he added a little something.

"Lionheart is mad that I stole his stuff. You're not."

"Decisive. The fact that Raven deferred the decision to you and didn't accept my offer says much. You have the makings for a great leader," Ozpin conceded. Ah, this was one of those conversations where somebody tries to secure somebody else's confidence, so they butter up the other person like no tomorrow. He didn't mind it. Being coddled felt much nicer than Abel's 'interrogation,' where he kept asking ridiculous questions such as "Does your sister have a child? Is that child from another dimension?" Where did Lionheart find this breed of wackjob? They may be dressed fancily, but the Animus wild and the Tribe has city folk beat when it comes to brains.

"Get some sleep. It's 3 AM and there's a big week ahead of you, my friend. We need to ride a Bullhead from Sanas to Anima. We'll make it to Beacon the day before Initiation."

"Beacon?"

"The name of my school."

"Speaking of which, doesn't a school need its Headmaster? Who is running the place while you're gone?"

The sagely dressed Headmaster flashed a genuine smile before leaving the room with a happy tempo in his feet, and Qrow got to sleep on his closing question. A man of secrets. That's funny to think about, really. Information was his power, and no man would give power up so easily. There was so much more to this than a benevolent Headmaster trying to help out potential students. Good news all around.

* * *

"You can't fly here on a Bullhead and trod here like you own the place, Oz! You're making a fool of me in front of guards paid by the Mistralian Council. What will they tell their employers? That Headmaster Lionheart let Ozpin do as he wished and accommodated every single request?" Lionheart fumed. His rage was building over the past week, and it was typically difficult for him to lash out at his superiors. But this charade had gone on far too long.

"Leo, that's a small price to pay. Your government can't seem to reign in its Maiden, and it's only a matter of time until Salem comes after her. If you're going to imprison two clearly capable and willing students that have the audacity to steal from a Headmaster and the tenacity to make it into your city and show up on your doorstep, you might be throwing away the rook and bishop in our match against Salem over your personal pride. I understand you're in a difficult position, but the world will be in a difficult position if we don't hammer out the agreements and treaties needed to defend Remnant," Ozpin cooly responded. He pushed his glasses further up his nose to emphasize their eye contact, which Leo turned to avoid. His gaze was terrifying.

"That battle could be twenty years in the future! The more you enrage Mistral, the more likely the Council will 'offer' me a worthless position, like an ambassador! I want to help you, Oz. You're a dear friend. But you push too hard."

"Ah, that brings us to my true reason for my visit. Please show me all information you have on the Spring Maiden. No doubt she will be one of Salem's priorities should she return. We must secure her."

"I-I don't have that information here," Lionheart cowered.

"Well, let's return to your office and finish this conversation. We're already hours behind schedule and Glynda already disapproved of this trip. I can't imagine how she'll feel when I return later than expected."

Lionheart gulped. The only thing more terrifying than Ozpin and his invisible boogieman Salem was a chiding from Glynda. Her lecture when she found his stash of Nyan-Nyans left him with a mental scar that would never leave.

That begged the question: did this kid look through his scroll? There were so many confidential things on it, such as the school budget for the next year, the cost of the lion statue he built, Mistralian government secrets, and somehow he know about Kitty Khan's catch phrase. Luckily for him, Altas had the software to remotely delete anything off a scroll connected to a CCT, so the secrets were safe. But his dignity wasn't. The kid even nailed the signature paw wave! The cutest woman alive. Did Qrow see his folder of pictures or the subscription to Kitty Khan Chronicles?

Or maybe he was a fellow KKC fan! They might have been friends under any other set of circumstances. Any Kitty Khan fan was a friend of Lionheart's.

"Also, give the boy his own scroll before he steals yours."

"Ah, a swell idea," Ozpin said, leading the walk towards the elevator back to the surface.

Despite being part of Ozpin's justice cabal, there ever lurked a sneaking suspicion in the back of his mind that the whole wizard mythos was just mythos. That Salem wasn't real, and he was using an invisible threat to become the most powerful man in Remnant. That didn't make sense, though. Vale was the worst country to do so with, and he'd seen the magic. But… Why didn't he share it? If he had a wealth of it, why not enchant trusted allies? Superhuman strength would be nice. He could finally create the weapon he always dreamed of: a gigantic golden cross! Courage and valor!

* * *

"Raven, we're fucking flying!" Qrow said, peering out the Bullhead window. The ride was long, but the journey to Mistral was longer. It was nice to have seats that didn't chafe his ass and force him to take breaks. Also, unless all of Vale had transportation this nice, riding with the Headmaster of Beacon had plenty of perks.

The thing was comprised of three main areas: the place where the pilot sat, the place where everybody else sat, and whatever was in the back. It was a tiny ship, nothing like some of the Bullheads he remembered crossing overhead in the Tribe. This one must've been a personal ride. And personal it was! The place where they were sitting was adorned with a long couch, a table and chair with two books and a fat stack of papers, and plenty to eat and drink. A fridge. God. A fridge. Powered by dust. A sign of wealth out in the wild.

There was an unattended bar. Qrow snuck behind it as the Headmaster dealt with his job, and looked at what drinks he could make. To his chagrin, the fridge was full of milk. He checked the shelves. They were adorned with bags of beans. Just beans. No alcohol. Damn it.

Raven, dead asleep on the couch, took up the whole damn thing. No way he was going to share it with her, just the idea gave him flashbacks to when they were children. Ugh. Instead, he decided to explore what there was to do. Cockpit door was locked. Made sense. Ozpin and his men didn't know anything about these two. The Headmaster himself was busy with his entourage in the back, so Qrow was bored. Staring out the window only got him so far.

He was so bored, he decided to read some of the books Ozpin left on the table. Eh, the old man was in the back office, so there wasn't an easy way to ask for permission. He pursued his selections: _Fairy Tales of Mantle_ (that must've been an old one; Mantle was renamed to Atlas like 60 years prior), _Anima and Her People_ , and a stack of papers that looked like some weird treatise on Grimm. _Pordingher's Theorem on Grimm Behavior._

Why would an old man keep a fairy tale anthology? Qrow flipped it open to the corner Ozpin must've folded as he read it. The first page of _The Brothers Who Made Remnant_. He got halfway down the page, to where twin gods of creation and destruction started having an argument before he got bored and decided to check out other stories. Ozpin was a surprisingly active reader. Very cold and calculating.

In _The Story of the Seasons_ , pen marks outnumbered words on the page. The story was basically about some depressed and sick guy in a farm who was helped by four cute ladies, and so he granted them magical powers. Some weird sugar daddy shit. In the margin of the pages describing the man in the barn, Ozpin wrote words like "pathetic" and "emotional response." His diction indicated a strange loathing of the old man, yet still holding him in a respectful reverence. Like a child hating his father for hating Faunus; disappointed but proud. This one must've meant a lot to Ozpin. His other notes had a predilection for the maiden who was granted the powers of autumn. Words like "drive" and "justice."

Reading the notes in his anthology was getting very personal, and those kinds of feelings gave Qrow the creeps. Feelings are drunk thoughts. Instead, he laid the thick brown bound book down and perused _Anima and Her People_. Just as the title implied, the author was a rich Mistralian with a good education.

Ozpin had much less to say when he was reading this one. Most of his annotations were simple underlines and one liners such as "Nice prose" or "Good coffee." Well, from what was legible. His chicken scratch had a lot of pretty loops and the like, but it didn't make for the easiest read.

The book was mostly a recap of geography shaping early Animan civilizations. All of it was pretty in-line with what little knowledge Qrow got from books and the landmarks surrounding the Tribe. The rich man described the majority of northern continental Anima as one large swamp interrupted by patches of life, which was hilarious. In places north of the Tribe, water pooled up to the knees, which made for good Grimm habitat to sneak up on civilians. Not everyone had aura (except for bandits, where aura was a right of passage), making them quick work for Grimm. As a result, almost all northern villages were small, with the exception of places that could afford walls. The pockets of green in between the bog is where most early Mistralian villages were founded. Most of the South consisted of mountain ranges carved by the wind, the city of Mistral itself being the best example. West of Mistral was a wide mountain range, but a couple of towns thrived because of their close proximity to Vale. The people that could afford boats could afford to sail and trade, leading to wealthy towns. Vale's leaders were always diplomatic and were much easier to make trade with than Mantle and Atlas, who desired control of overseas trade..

Huh. That all made sense. How early society set up was the foundation for today. The only politics in the wild was farmers feeding people and Grimm alike with spears to protect their land and crops. Qrow's knowledge was limited compared to what these books contained, and international politics was interesting. Like, what could Mistral possibly trade with Vale? If Vale could afford to send Bullheads without a second thought, they must have money. And these things were powered by dust! Dust, which cost so much money out in the wilderness. And they were flying using it! How amazing. That sea trade introduced Valeans to Mistral, and some Valean investors started chain stores in remote Mistral villages to capitalize upon the 'barbarians.' People in the wild could now travel less than an hour out and see what powered lights and fully stocked shelves looked like.

Funnily enough, Qrow remembered a good example of that. Some of the Tribe liked hanging out around a construction site that one of those Valean traders had started on the road about an hour out to the west. If he ever had to move the Tribe base, it'd be near there. That store was convenient.

Mistral was much more advanced than he had assumed. Some years after the Great War, the government of Mistral planned on creating a cross-Animan railroad "meant for freighters and lucky passengers." The accompanying image taught him what a railroad was, and it was the same exact thing he saw in North Mistral. Ah, so they already made it. And freighter meant… train. He knew what that was, he stole a few toy trains in his Tribe days.

Damn, calling them Tribe days. Seemed like yesterday it was his home and now he was in the middle of an unknown storm, driving him every which way. Control would be nice. He didn't mind it that much, though. Being away from the Tribe was nice too.

Honestly, most of this was new knowledge to him. He put the book down and tried to contemplate about his country. Wind at his back, bog seeping into his shoes. But Mistral wasn't really his home. Neither was the Tribe. Homes were supposed to be full of loving people and people to love. Mistral and the Tribe had neither. He had one person, really, and she secretly (but obviously) resented him for being born first. Dunno. Felt weird. Feelings are weird, so he stopped the introspection and picked the book back up. He spent about six hours reading before Raven woke back up. After she rose, Qrow wordlessly flopped onto the couch and finally finished his long day.

* * *

Raven picked some food from the fridge to eat and conjured up a sandwich (also a sign of wealth; putting meat and vegetables and bread in the same meal meant a lot of shopping). She assumed they must've been filthy rich to eat like this. Qrow's snoring scorned her sanity, so she covered his face with a couch cushion. Not in a smothering kind of way, but in a noise-can't-go-through-pillows kind of way.

Once she finished meeting her basic needs, Raven wanted to use her time wisely. She walked up to the cabin's office and knocked on the door almost loudly enough to wake her brother. After an angry minute, she knocked again, and their glorious benefactor finally opened up the door.

"Good morning, Raven. I see you've slept well."

"I need something to do. My hands were made for work."

His eyes moved away from her and focused on the table where he left his books. Ozpin noted the moved chair, the shuffled papers, the novels that were moved around and smiled.

"Did you finish reading?" He asked.

"No. I finished eating. I want to do, not read."

Ozpin raised an eyebrow at what Raven said. He must've disagreed, but that idea just didn't make proper sense to her. Reading and gaining knowledge about places that she'd never need to know was a waste of time. True learning was sneaking to a bedside and snatching nearby valuables. Skills. Warriors and thinkers were two separate jobs, two separate people.

"I have a whetstone. You can sharpen your weapons," he smiled. He left his doorway and fished around his room for a few minutes. The search was interrupted by the loud drips of a liquid, which made the wait unbearable. She peeked her mane of hair around the doorway and caught a glimpse into the life of a Headmaster. The room had been remade into an office and was adorned with bookcases and a glass desk. The perpetrator of her irritation was what looked like a coffee machine, matching the dense waft of coffee aroma assaulting her nose. Why did it need to drip? Wasn't the point of coffee to caffeinate? An energizer that required that amount of patience seemed oxymoronic. The corner of her lips lifted in disgust.

Ozpin returned, giving her a surprised smile. What an absolute wackjob. Always smiling at everything. Whatever, she shook her head and took the whetstone, looking forward to caring for her sword.

* * *

"Morning, princess."

Qrow swiped at the grogginess on his face, but to no avail. Dabbing at his dried drool with the collar of his fabulous shirt, he rose and got behind the coffee bar. He turned on the sink (running water in the air was still incredible to think about), and washed away the wear and tear of the past two weeks.

A tournament in his home that was a thinly veiled justification to send them off on a journey, travelling to the home of Mistral's headmaster to steal his shit, driving down to the capital city, being arrested, interrogated, and saved by a gray haired man in green. This was the most eventful his life has been so far, and hopefully this was the peak. Because this was tiring, so damn tiring.

"Morning. Want coffee?"

"Ozpin takes his coffee seriously. I doubt he wants you to touch anything."

"It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission!" Qrow said heartily, setting himself about making himself a mug of coffee. There was more than one machine, making it a difficult to know where to start. Eh. One had a glass pot. That looked like a coffee container. It had a cord attached, already plugged into an outlet built into the wall of the Bullhead. He pulled the pot out of its spot at the bottom of the machine. Didn't break it, either. Pristine glass, the old man must've really cared about it. He put it back and looked for other movable parts.

After massaging the entire coffee machine, he found the top came off. Underneath, diagrams showed just how to work this insanity: a brown piece of paper with wet brown grounds on top of it. That meant there was water, or there was supposed to be. Okay. This was starting to make sense. After removing the old grounds, he tossed it into a waste bin and began searching for the paper. He shuffled through five different drawers, one having an open bag of beans, and finally found one stocked to the brim with dumb brown paper. It read "filter #9" across the top. He placed filter #9 in the machine and poured just as many grounds as the old machine had. The last necessity in hot bean water was the hot water. It wasn't tied to any hoses, so it meant he had to pour it in over the top, right? Then why was it plugged in? Shit, this was confusing. He ran the sink hot, used the pot to get some water, and hoped just pouring water over the filter would make it work. After returning the pot to its place, he sat down at the desk where he had previously spent hours skimming through pages.

"What did you do while I was asleep, Rav?"

"I sharpened my sword and Quill."

"Aw shit, thanks."

They stared at each other from across the room, Raven enjoying the couch. The squeezing of bean water was the only noise until he nabbed some, pouring it into two mugs. Qrow broke their silence.

"So where do you think the cameras are?"

"Hmm?"

"A smart man's not just going to invite two criminals onto his flying ship without some security. There's a camera somewhere in the room."

"Huh. Didn't think of that." Raven didn't do much thinking at all. Oh well. He summoned her over to the coffee bar and the twins clinked mugs. She let the cup rest, watching Qrow carefully. Made sense. He ought to try it first.

Putting the mug to his lips, he had his first sip.

Woah.

A bright light flared over his vision, and Qrow felt like he fell backwards. Divinity gripped his soul, measuring the fiber of his being, and Qrow was transported to The Coffee Realm. He flew past coffee rivers and deep chestnut oceans, soaking in the fresh coffee-sea breeze. His wings were black and brown, stained with Ozpin's ambrosia. Dipped through fertile valleys. Every woman and man he remembered bedding with were at the riverbank, but he couldn't stop for them. They never gave him the ecstasy this mug did. He rose and rose towards the sun, and Qrow greeted The Coffee God. He had the face of Ozpin, the sunglasses of Ozpin, everything Ozpin, and he wore a huge smile. It was contagious. Qrow giggled, and The Coffee God demanded he took another sip. He did. The lights got brighter. They illuminated The Coffee Realm until the bottomless mug ran to the river and his cup of ambrosia was fleeting. The Coffee God waved goodbye, but Qrow didn't want to leave. He strained towards the sky, but his wings were clipped and Qrow fell back to shitty Remnant.

He woke up writhing on the couch.

"How was it?" Ozpin asked, looking over him.

"Are you okay?" Raven said.

"I'm better than okay. That mug is a like whiskey but better." Laying on the couch was the same as enjoying the afterglow after spending the night with a pretty person. No. This was better.

"Qrow… I'm so sorry."

"What? Ozpin, you sound so grave! My eyes have been opened to the coffee!"

"Yes, but… Just try another mug."

Raven handed him hers. She hadn't touched it. Qrow drank, and expected to return to The Coffee Realm and meet with The Coffee God and fly over the fertile lands. But he didn't. It tasted amazing and warmed his senses and would've been amazing, had he not known what the true coffee experience was like.

"Brother, you're tearing up."

"Shh, Raven. He's mourning a lost loved one."

Raven looked at them both with a quizzical stare, in disbelief that Qrow truly had an out of body experience. She rolled her eyes and sat at the bar.

"Ozpin… The Coffee Realm is gone…"

"I know, I know. We all chase that first sip for decades."

The two men shared a moment of silence for what they lost. Qrow wiped a tear away and tried to return to how life was before The Coffee Realm, but he couldn't. He'd have to live through every day knowing that The Coffee God wouldn't smile on him ever again.

"Now I understand why your books and papers had coffee stains on them."

"Ah yes, you looked through my personal belongings just to have something to do. I recall 'it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission' was tossed around." He didn't sound mad, more amused than anything. Wow.

"I can't wait around and ask for everything, right? It's a waste of time. I'd rather take the initiative and say sorry if I fuck it up."

"Qrow, watch your language around the man who saved our lives."

"The old man knows what fuck means, I'm sure!"

"I do."

"See?"

"That doesn't mean this old man appreciates it."

"See," Raven said with her infamous smug giggle. Qrow would've been annoyed, but this one day in the Bullhead was better than a life in the Tribe. He learned, he experienced new things, and genuinely enjoyed his company. That was more than the Tribe ever did. Things were looking up; this whole school thing was shaping up to be wonderful.

* * *

The Bullhead pulled into station. There was a small security convoy waiting for them. Miniscule, even. If the Mistralian soldiers were mediocre at best, the Valean soldiers didn't even have guns. Qrow wasn't sure if it even was a security force or were just students in detention. He read enough of _Kitty Khan Goes To Class_ off of good ol' Leo's scroll to know what detention was.

Only one of the security force truly looked alive. He was a portly man, sporting a gray mustache and a head of hair that belonged in a history book and not on somebody's head. The only other person worth mentioning was the devil woman ready to kill Ozpin only using her glare. She was beautiful; a blonde mess of hair bundled in a bun, and a professional outfit consisting of a stark white shirt and a pencil skirt. Her heels could stab. Qrow felt underdressed in his shirt that exposed his meager chest hair and gaudy accessories.

"Glynda, these are the new students I've picked up from Haven."

The portly man started frisking Qrow, making sure he didn't strap any hidden weapons to him or some nonsense. Why would they check him here and not when he had a billion opportunities to kill their Headmaster on the Bullhead? After Qrow, he went to frisk Raven with a wicked smile. She raised a killer eyebrow. He grunted in fear and spent much less time on her than he did on Qrow.

Ah. What a good first impression. Bumbling incompetence.

"Welcome to Beacon, Qrow and Raven. Tomorrow we're going to do some interviews to get a grasp on your personal history, as it seems Ozpin shirked his responsibilities once more." This Glynda smiled at them.

"Thanks for the warm welcome. You guys really saved our bacon." It was difficult for Qrow to speak professionally with the breeze hitting his abs. Bullhead stations weren't warm.

Raven nodded.

"Ozpin and I have much to discuss. Please allow Peter to show you the campus and help you with your belongings."

"You're in luck, Pete. Only got two belongings: my scythe and my purse."

"Your purse, you say?" Peter said, staring at Qrow's fabulous outfit. "Beacon loves people from all walks of life! We have plenty of clubs and alliances on campus to help people who think their sexual orientations will prevent them from fitting in! I'm friends with so many of them!"

Raven giggled behind them.

"Uh, Pete. That's, uh, unnecessary. This was a disguise. I don't really dress like this."

"Oh, Qrow! If I can call you that. Don't worry a lick. You don't have to justify anything to me. As a TA and hopefully a future professor, I can assure you, everyone on this campus is equal!"

Raven's giggling pissed Qrow off. He dug his hands in his pockets.

"Can we start with food? I'm starving."

"Ho ho, we should get you lockers first!"

* * *

Beacon was beautiful. Everything was a beautiful white stone, including the floors. It signalled, called out to him saying this was a place of hopes and dreams. Every student was dressed in their personal garb, in brazen colors Qrow could only hope to see in the Tribe. Instead of drab olives and the tan of leather, the students of Beacon wore vivid reds, blues, greens, their hair colors ranging from neon pink to a tame brunette. Tall men. Tall women. Short men. Short women. His first thought was everyone looked gorgeous. His second thought was, of course, these are warriors training to kill Grimm. His third thought was wondering how many of them could he sleep with by the end of his fourth year.

Buildings were tall, one tower in particular piercing the sky and reaching up to become a close constellation. Qrow couldn't help but feel outclassed by everyone. These students had attended combatschools all their lives and forged their own weapons. Hell, even Raven spent meticulous hours forging and folding her sword. Quill was child's play compared to all of them. Shit.

"These lockers are fine pieces of technology! They all have jets in them, so they can be called while you're near Beacon to summon your weapon to your side!"

"Why can't I just hold onto it?"

"Because not using them would be a waste!"

"Can't argue with that," Raven chimed in.

Peter leaned on a locker, looking at Raven with faux-sultry eyes. Well, if Pete wanted to shoot his shot and try to get with Raven, Qrow had no complaints. Actually, it would help his life a lot. If she got laid, maybe Raven would quit being an asshole. Qrow walked away to lose himself in the locker labyrinth.

After spending so much time with people, it was nice to recharge his proverbial batteries. He walked to the furthest corner in the set of lockers, a cool cerulean chilling the long events of the day. He leaned his back up against a locker, holding Quill, ready to enjoy his alone time. Damn, he needed it. His eyes closed, and he was ready to nap.

Small footsteps crept around him. Who? Probably just someone picking up their weapon.

The legs got awfully close to Qrow. Why were they here?

They stood dormant for a minute. Qrow was sure they would finally leave, but they laid a ginger touch onto Quill. That was too far. He forced his eyes open and his nonchalant voice spoke, "Oh, hey. Sorry if I'm in your way."

Just like other Beacon students, the one touching Quill was beautiful. She had mute gray eyes that would disappear in a crowd, and a permanent innocent smile etched into her face. Red bangs covered pale skin, and her outfit was topped off with a white cloak shielding her from other eyes. An "eep" escaped her mouth, and the poor girl froze. She looked young, with that round face.

"Sorry, let me get out of the way."

"Nononono, you weren't in the way, I'm just so sorry that I touched your weapon without your permission, because you see I'm just really into weapons and I can appreciate fine craftsmanship when I see it and I also use a scythe, so the fact that you made yours also is really cool and I've never really seen you before, maybe you went to a different battle school than me, so it's kinda cool, and it's a small world that you and I are doing the same exact thing in the same exact place and did you make your weapon and call you tell me about it please?" She hopped up and down, perhaps from nerves or her lungs running out of breath from all the words she spoke in the span of about five seconds. Qrow rubbed his ears to see if they were bleeding.

He rose to his feet, and he was much taller than her. Still adorable, in that innocent kind of way. She pulled a jumbled mess out of her cloak. Some weird, folded thing that vaguely resembled a rifle. The real wonder was when it unfolded into a giant scythe bigger than Quill with a wicked red blade on top. This girl, in a hood… was she a reaper in disguise?

"Holy shit," he muttered. "That's awesome."

"Her name is Crimson Rose! She's like a daughter to me, so I gave her my last name!" Damn it, she really was adorable. Such a passion for weapons, and he really could use some help. Quill didn't transform or do any nonsense like that. Quill was just two metal blades attached to a metal stick with some nice handles, as far as Beacon was concerned. He was so far behind.

Like two awkward parents setting up a playdate, Qrow put forth his son. "And his name is Quill. I take him to soccer practice on Wednesdays. He can't transform or anything like that. I want him to, though."

"Yes! That sounds so good! Do you want help? I love weapons. I'd love to help. You need a ranged weapon just as much as you need your scythe! Plus, you'd need something good for close combat! We could make Quill into a three part weapon, a shotgun, a scythe, and something for close combat! I would do the same thing but I'm not really strong, you know? I'm just really fast, and when it comes to Grimm being fast is honestly a good thing, but sorry for assuming you fight using strength, it's just what I assume cause, you know, your pecs and abs are hanging out of your shirt and you have sunglasses in your hair, and-"

"Hey, how are you going to tell me your baby's name and not yours?" He interrupted.

"You're right! I'm Summer, Summer Rose! Nice to meet you!"

"Qrow. Uh, Branwen. Don't tell anyone my last name, though. It's a secret." He was half tempted to say 'Bran Ravenwen,' but Summer was already nice to him without knowing a damn thing. So trusting and genuine. Hopefully that wouldn't fuck her over one day. Hopefully Qrow could do her trust justice.

"Nice, Qrow! Don't worry, I'll keep your secret!" She continued hopping and shook his hand. It was somehow loose but firm and full of life. He was scared to touch her, as she might infect him with her enthusiasm and he'd actually have to work. "You're a man of good taste! But, uh, I don't think Quill is going to fit in a locker without a fold."

She was right. Quill was pretty fucking big.

"You know the TA Peter? He was giving my twin sister and I a tour of the school, but honestly, he's pretty boring. Could you show me where to do weapon stuff, like the forge or something?"

"Let's do it!" Summer jolted off out of the locker labyrinth. Qrow followed, his chin high. He made his first real friend.

* * *

 _A/N: I'm a man of my word! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. See you in two weeks! Summer is so cute, I had to do her right. She's just a big Ruby, after all._


	5. Chapter 5: Two Arms Too Armed

Chapter 5: Two Arms Too Armed

* * *

Qrow wasn't in the tribe anymore. Everything in Beacon was white. White white white. So many brilliant colors, no olive drabs and boring tans. The walk to the Armory was astounding. Summer kept rambling about how she made Crimson Rose, and too many words assaulted his ears to even try to listen. So he didn't bother. He took in the sights. There was a downside to this colorful life: some things were made to get dirty. Like armories. Whoever decided to use Beacon White in the goddamn Armory should've been fired. The beautiful marble was covered in soot, making for a slippery entrance, and Summer almost ate Beacon White on their way inside.

It was a happy place despite the dreary lighting. There were only two other people in the room, giving Qrow ample opportunity to learn about weapons.

"Hello, students! Welcome back, Summer!" A man with wild green hair greeted them from the workbench closest to the door. He was working on a dangerous looking stick, and black smudge layered his hands. When he pushed the bridge of his glasses up, he fingerpainted them. His tank top revealed thin arms and a thin frame. Not every Huntsman needed to fight, Qrow supposed.

"Bartholomew! I'm introducing another scythe user to the Armory! It's awesome! You've got to convince him to make his own! Give him the pitch!"

"Ah, yes. Well, Mr. Scythe User, I am Bartholomew Oobleck, and my official Beacon sanctioned title is Assistant Head Researcher of Valean History, and I work closely with the Head Researcher to do field work and study what exactly makes Vale into the proud city it is today, including everything from the boots worn during the Great War to the categorical differences between Atlas weapons and Valean ones. What's funny about the scythes you and Summer wield is that they are some of the most popular weapons in rural areas, like other farming implements such as the much smaller kama. Another weapon of choice for the rural populations in the Animan wild was actually tonfas, as they could be disguised as the handles for wells and as such, tonfas saw good use in the guerilla war tactics Animans were forced to use. However, Animan history was not my focus in learning, although I could choose to pursue it now!"

He sucked the breath out of the room. Qrow wasn't sure there was enough air left for him, so he responded quickly while there was a pause. He looked at Summer to get him to stop, but she was vibrating with energy, eager to hear more.

"Wow."

"What's interesting about Valean history, and I think I'll be pursuing it extensively if Headmaster Ozpin allows me too, is the strange coincidences in our leadership. For an odd reason, most great Valean leaders have had the same long-term strategies coming to both economics and politics, which explains why there was such a surge in population both in the city of Vale proper and in the outskirts. That population has also brought a surge in criminal activity, so it will be exciting to see how this plays out politically. If Ozpin solves the problem, I imagine it will be dealt with rather quickly-"

Heavy metal dropped on some wood, earning a shrill "eep" from Summer.

"C'mon Bart, quit it. You're scaring the new guy."

And the busy student in the back the armory started towards them. Damn, he was built. He also wore a tank top, but the arms occupying it were twice as big as Bartholomew. Looked like the type of man who was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. At least he wasn't afraid of some hard work. His blond hair was tarnished with the smudge of metal lubricant, his stature was tall, and his eyes were tired. Everything about him looked great. The one thing that kept Qrow from trying to get in his pants was his pants. Who wore cargo pants? Okay. Time for a regrade, he was now at a negative 5.

"Hey new guy! What's your name?"

At least his voice was nice. He held his hand out. Qrow took it, and the triangle of a man took Qrow's hand to his chest and patted his back. Ah, Qrow saw that greeting in a movie once. The character who did it was named "Chad."

"Qrow. You?"

"Ah, well I'm surprised Summer didn't tell you about me already," he said in a proud and expectant tone. He faked stretching to look over at Summer, but she was distracted, staring at a table profusely. He looked dejected, but continued. "Tai. Taiyang Xiao Long, the best bruiser in all of Signal. Call me Tai, though. Or 'The Best,' they both work." He winked. It could've been a nice wink if he wasn't wearing cargo pants. Qrow could get cargo shorts, but pants? What's the point in a tank top if he was going to wear pants? That's just clear boasting.

"The best bruiser in Signal, eh? Where's that?"

"You don't know what Signal is?" Summer asked, tilting her head.

"Don't worry Mr. Qrow, I believe I can assist. Signal is the combat preparatory school on the island of Patch, a little bit off the coast of Vale. They have a rich history of turning young teenagers into battle-ready academics ready for Beacon. It's one of the best preparatory schools in Remnant, seconded only by the expensive schools children in Atlas are sent to before serving in the Atlas Armada."

"And I was the king! I never lost a single training fight!"

"Not too sure about that, Taiyang. Everyone loses once in a while." Qrow shuddered. There was too much energy in this room. He just wanted to have Summer help make Quill ready for the school year.

"Damn, Qrow! Sounds like you want a piece of me!" Not with those cargo pants, anyway.

"Qrow's right, though. We all know you were amazing, but a perfect win streak isn't easy. It's okay to admit you lost some!" Summer said.

"Damn, Summer too! You guys are hounding me like good cop and bad cop! Don't tell me you guys rehearsed this outside!" Taiyang groaned.

"Scythe user energy unite!" Summer hopped up in pride.

"Ah yes, well I doubt Qrow came here for a lesson on Taiyang's personal history. Allow us to return to the tasks at hand, as Initiation will be coming up soon for you three. I don't want you struggling with poor weapons because I allowed you to slack off in the armory. Yes, let us continue onwards. I need more coffee." That reminded Qrow of the delicious cup Qrow had on the Bullhead, and he cried a little.

"Initiation?" Qrow asked.

"Man, you don't know a damn thing, do you?"

* * *

Peter Port was annoying. He walked too slow. His mustache was too thick. He brimmed over the top with undeserved confidence and boasted far too much. So when Raven finally had the chance to leave, she did. In the bathroom by the cafeteria. Poor women in there. If the stories were true, he'd charge in there thinking she was abducted by Grimm. Raven wouldn't stick around to see if he would. She summoned a red dot which tore into a crimson rift and saved her from Peter Port. Only if Qrow didn't ditch her. She wouldn't be stuck in this mess.

That portal ripped across continent and sea and would put her back where their story began. It was poetic in a way, but Raven wasn't fond of poetry in the same way her brother was. He'd always find meaning in the strangest things; that's what it took to be observant, she supposed. No, observing was the boring part of doing something. Decisions were fast. Made with energy. Why mull over something for weeks when it was going to be done anyway?

She stepped out of her Semblance back into the world of the living. Home, sweet home. The Chief was sitting on her throne, and the room was exactly the way it looked before she left. It had a certain emptiness to it, though. As if the life had been drained.

"Welcome back, Raven. I'm happy you're back."

"I don't think you've ever been happy." Raven sat down near the throne. Seats she was used to! Damn Beacon was a place of comfort everywhere she looked. Comfort is inefficient. This chair was efficient.

The Chief sent away the mook there to grovel to her. Hopefully he wouldn't tell the others, as that would make the report more difficult. Anything was worth being rid of Peter Port, though.

"There was a large chance I'd never see my children again."

"Qrow and I can't die out there. City life is easier than the Tribe."

"That's not what I meant."

"What _did_ you mean, then?"

The Branwen Chief sighed. Without Qrow there to think for her, she'd never understand what she meant. Motherly guidance is preferable to motherly managing, but Raven needed help.

"Your brother has wanted to run away the day he was born. I assumed time with him would sway you to his side, yet you've returned. That's a glimmer of hope. He will return to lead us into a new Era, and with you by his side, the Branwen Tribe will be stronger than whatever Mistral has to offer. No longer will be the days of hiding in secrecy. The fit will live, the unfit will die."

Raven halted.

"Cities breed weakness. A lack of independence. Everyone born within the Mistral walls won't leave them. They'll buy their food from others, take their information from others, and follow orders from others until the day they die. The mooks at Haven are no different, except they hold swords. Raven. You were made to cull this meekness. There is so much about the world you don't understand, but you and your brother will move the strong out of the wild and into the palaces."

But she wasn't wrong. Mistral was a den of darkness. The first sight she saw in the walls was a guard mugging an innocent, right after she passed by incompetent guards that let wanted criminals walk right up to Haven. What if they were planning something sinister? The blood of students would have painted the walls.

"Don't worry, Mother. We were saved from Mistral. Qrow and I attend Beacon, under Headmaster Ozpin."

"I know nothing of Beacon."

"We've decided it's a good place."

"I'll decide that. Tell me everything. And when you come back again, tell me more." The carmine of her eyes invaded Raven and her thoughts. It was difficult to put up an opposition.

"Don't you understand that we Branwens live in the wild? If they do not deem us worthy of information, then we don't get any. People have come up with so many ways to divide themselves into smaller groups. Faunus and human. Mistral and Vale. No matter those divisions, everywhere is split between shepherd and sheep. And the shepherds will stay shepherds if they can convince sheep to off each other. Women like us will never make headway with the Shepherds because they refuse to share their secrets with people like us. The Mistralian leadership gatekeep anything worth knowing out of our grasp. Why must we be subservient to Vale and Atlas? Why are the poor sheep picked apart by Grimm and children are deployed to save them?"

"The peasantry can't defend itself." Raven peeped.

"And why not? We can."

"Most peasantry don't have weapons and Semblances and can defeat Grimm."

"Why can't they? Why can we? What's the difference between Branwen and Mistralian, Raven?" Her mother's tone turned hostile.

"I-"

"What's the difference between a Branwen and Mistralian?" Her mother repeated. A silence enveloped the room. Everyone she met in Mistral looked like her, apart from the faunus. There was something, though.

"Why did you come back here instead of running off and living the life of a peasant's wife?"

Raven's anxiety didn't die. It was there. Her arms shook, her feet quaked, and her mother's face, while never comforting, never looked so horrifying. The ends of her eyes crinkled with deviant bliss. She regretted coming back. But it was her duty.

"You, Mother. You."

* * *

So, Initiation was a giant slap fest where the school launches 17 year old children into the sky, hope they land in the forest with their heads intact, and pit them against Grimm that range from average Beowolves to monsters larger than buildings. Ozpin was putting a lot of trust in the kids, and twofold in the random thieves he picked up in a neighboring country. The Tribe turned down people for the smallest reason, and a petty thief would have been thrown out the walls. And yet here are some not-so-petty thieves expected to take a chess piece in the middle of Grimm-infested nowhere to prove they're worthy of actually attending a school.

Nice.

"I regret spoiling Ozpin's surprise, but I'd rather it over the ridiculous rumors Taiyang was trying to fill you with. Yes, while it is rather dangerous, we'd never put students something so horrifying that they wouldn't come back. We're trying to prepare Huntsmen, not kill off the the next generation. Please don't spread such misinformation." Bartholomew never stopped to breath. How did he do it?

"Signal is full of heavy hitters, not heavy thinkers, alright? My friends aren't the smartest bunch," Taiyang sighed. While the two were having a wonderful spat, Qrow noticed Summer wasn't in the Armory, so he excused himself to take a seat on the steps outside. Summer already occupied one, her white cloak pulled over her hair, matching her with the stark Beacon white. She hunched over her legs, hands assumedly in her pockets. No scroll. Sitting. That was new. Qrow didn't sit. He stood next to her, and looked out to the bright afternoon.

They existed next to each other, silence conveying more than words could. The solidarity of simultaneously wanting to break from the prison of introversion and make friends with everyone there but the definite separation between them and the rest. What was Summer's issue? Eh. It wasn't part of his business. If she wanted to talk about it, she would. It'd be surprising if she felt the same way; everyone here was so intimidating. These rich kids were a little younger than him but had actual combat school fighting experience. How did that differ from his education? Apart from being more academic and less practical, he didn't know. He wanted to see, but a mock fight needed a mock partner. There were plenty around, but these kids had a whole process to get into Beacon. They'd at least enjoy their first day on campus before going at each other's throats. People like Taiyang and Bartholomew, making last-minute edits on their weapons before the school year started, weren't the norm. The norm surrounded them, people who socialized and sat in the same place while waiting for the speech to start. Kinda disgusting. It was nice to have fellow misanthrops to be angry with.

Neither of them spoke. It wasn't an awkward silence, just a silence. A nice silence. They took in the scenery. Glynda from earlier was chastising two students who sat alone underneath some foliage. The tree they chose to hide under masked them from view, but it seemed like she was preventing them from having a public romance. Thank you, Glynda. A panicked Peter Port walked briskly away, his eyes finally showing something other than sublime confidence. Raven was probably giving him a hard time.

"Think she hates them now?" Qrow asked.

"You're people watching too?"

"Fun pastime. City folk are weird."

"Where are you from, if this is weird?" She asked.

"Don't worry about it."

"I worry about a lot of things," she said softly.

"Like?"

It took a moment for Summer to respond, as if she was mentally preparing a speech. Some people had to think before answering big questions, unlike the green haired rambler behind them.

"People. I'm trying to get ready for the first speech. It's the only time where we have to sit with so many people in one room, but still. It's scary. All the students. In one room. Being watched by every faculty member, and then we have to listen to Headmaster Ozpin's speech and remember it because he seems like the type of man to care about that kind of stuff? I don't know. I don't get it. I didn't come to Beacon to get lectured. So why do I have to be so nervous about lecturing in a Huntsmen school? Beacon is so weird."

He didn't empathize, but he tried to sympathize. "Yeah. Ozpin is observant. If you're on his radar, he keeps an eye out."

That wasn't the right thing to say, because Summer huffed a tiny bit. Damn it. The brashness of the weapons locker and the twinkle in her eye in the Armory had left, leaving behind a ball of anxiety with a short stature. Qrow tried to help her out by asking, "So why'd you come to Beacon?"

Summer looked over her shoulder, her red hair being hit by the sun at such a nice angle that a soft halo around her pale face bloomed. It wasn't a smile she wore, despite it matching the lighting well. Her gray eyes wore a wizened determination, her lips pursed to be the smallest possible, and her back straightened.

"I want to help everyone. There's so many people in the world who need to be saved, and I have the hands to do it. Patch is so small and the world is so big. If there's people to help in Patch, there are so many to help everywhere in Remnant. We need to stop the Grimm."

How noble. She wants to help everyone across the world, not her own people. She wants to kill every Grimm across every continent without a care in the world for how she fits in it. A nice sentiment. A nice philosophy. But not a nice execution. The Tribe taught Qrow that places, hometown or not, are just places. He didn't ever want to go back. He would go back, but he didn't want to. That's what he set out to do, that was his duty, he was born in the position to lead the Tribe and he would die with the chiefhood on his his head and anger in his heart. It wasn't going to be a choice. His mantle was to get strong and prosper and bring the people who raised him into prosperity with him. Did they deserve it? Honestly, no. They didn't. They raised him, so what? Anyone could have raised him. But that's how the world worked, and that was the only world he knew. Summer was too damn innocent. Too idealistic. Killing all the Grimm in Vale wouldn't help out Anima or Atlas, it would help out Vale. With less to worry about, Vale could get an upper hand politically and bam. Summer wanting to help everyone kept another faunus mine open.

He'd change the subject.

"Well, I know I'm not 'everyone,' but I could sure use some help. If Bartholomew said we only have two hours until the speech, I better get a start on Quill." Qrow smirked.

"Ooh, you still need to cover close combat and at range! What if we add two shotgun barrels to Quill's shaft to cover both! If you switched between two types of dust, we'd be able to…" Her eyes lit up and Summer hopped from her seat on the stairs up to Qrow. What a shift, right back into excited mode. The morose atmosphere dissipated, though Qrow didn't mind.

It was time to get working on Quill. She pushed him back into the building, and before Taiyang could make another snide comment, Summer yelled, "We need to add a shotgun to Quill before the speech!"

"Quill?" Taiyang asked.

"Well, I am Qrow. So I kill shit with my Quill."

"Ah, excellent wordplay! Taiyang tried to convince me to rename my weapon into 'Boomstick' when I was younger and researching at Signal. A truly nominal difference between that and 'Torch.' Speaking of strange red lights, Qrow. You have a fairy following you."

A spec of crimson tore into a rift of dried blood which stunned the room before a pale leg invaded Valean air space. Taiyang had an audible gasp of shock, which Qrow groaned at. Following the leg was the rest of Raven, no longer wearing the red dress that she snuck into Mistral with. Instead she wore a set of Branwen Tribe jerkins, bringing with her the boring tan of the wildlife. Bartholomew scrambled for his weapon until Qrow said, "Welcome back. Trying to get away from good ol' Petey? Did he try to eat your chicken leg or something?"

"Unlike you, I use my legs for something."

"Ouch," Taiyang chimed in.

"Everyone, this is my bitch of a twin, Raven. Raven, this is the eccentric intellectual Bartholomew, the brawny but bird-brained Taiyang, and this is Summer. We're in the Armory, trying to add a shotgun to Quill."

"Why don't I get a witty introduction," Summer mumbled under her breath. He didn't want to admit it, but he didn't have anything bad to say about her except for her naïveté, which was admittedly kinda cute.

"Everyone, this is my scrawny, uncivilized, alcoholic excuse for a brother, Qrow. When we were younger, I tried my hardest to look up to him but he decided to use a childish farming tool as a weapon. That's when I lost all respect for him." She moved her head towards him as if to stick out her tongue, but all the fun in Raven was sucked out of her before her conception.

Summer looked at her dejectedly and said nothing. Taiyang almost drooled. That set the tone for the next two hours as Raven watched Summer and Qrow try to jerry-rig a dust shotgun onto Quill's shaft as Taiyang and Bartholomew tried to convince them the correct ways to do it. A smart man would've asked Taiyang; although he didn't live in the Armory, he was the most experienced and listening to him would have made the best use of time. But Raven's shitty first impression on Summer and how much she wanted to help Qrow originally swayed him from logic to empathy, and the two tried to make the best of Quill. Her crimped smile unfurled back into a grin and the Armory was lively once again.

On their walk to the main hall, Qrow felt strange. He was walking in a pack of five. Five people who didn't hate him and he didn't hate. Beacon was definitely a step up from the Tribe. Summer assaulted his chance at reflection with her words, though, saying, "You'll have to carry dust rounds on you, now! And bring plenty, because you don't have anything to check when the Grimm get in close! That's what I do, I've added a white smoke to escape when they get in close, or I could pop my Semblance and then I'm back to mid-range and BAM! You've gotta think of this kind of stuff, Qrow!"

"It's good to have a plan B, but you won't need it if plan A works."

"Why do you need a plan?" Taiyang asked laughing. He wanted to tell him his cargo pants made his opinion irrelevant, but that would've been too mean.

"Agreed. Leave the planning to someone else."

"See Raven, we already get along so well!" Taiyang said.

"We are?" She responded. His grin faded and Summer giggled.

Bartholomew lead them into the crowd and joined Glynda near the stage, who kept the peace. She wasn't doing a very good job; the chatter of students rose and fell and the dull roar of excitement wasn't stowed away by the time Ozpin approached the microphone. He didn't ask for peace. He stood still.

The world stood still. His frame wasn't large. But it was imperious.

"Hello, students. I'll keep this brief. You are huntsman-to-be, all with your own motivations and personal histories inspiring you to propel yourself further in life. You are all pawns, looking to cross the board and be knighted into rooks and knights. Advance the spaces. One at a time. Two at a time. It doesn't matter."

Damned chess analogies. Qrow didn't know the game all that well, but he at least heard of it. He looked at Raven, then at Summer, but they were busy paying attention, for some reason. He shifted his gaze back to the doors.

"As of now, some of you come from an educated background and know the ins and outs of your weapon and Grimm. What you require is the practical smarts to assist you in the life of a Huntsman. Others have lived in Grimm infested territories and have spent your lives scrounging up resources to live. I commend you. But everyone has something to learn. Nobody standing in this room is perfect, and time will show you what to work on."

He took another pause before finishing.

"I commend you all. But tomorrow starts your first move on the board; will you move once? Will you move twice? Or not at all? All three are required for different gambits, and I am excited to see how you all may progress. Turn anxiety into movement. Beacon cannot do that for you. It is up to you to take the first step."

Ozpin walked away. Glynda approached the microphone. "Thank you, Headmaster Ozpin. Students, you will gather in the ballroom tonight. Tomorrow, Initiation begins. Dismissed."

The faculty filed out the backdoor, leaving the students confounded.

"Aren't these supposed to take an hour? That was like, two minutes," Taiyang said, joining in the crowd murmuring in confusion.

"I'm glad. I'm no fan of speeches." Raven already began walking away. Qrow looked to follow, but the crowd was already stumbling their way out the doors. He felt a tug on his shirt and a small whimper. Qrow pushed his way to the edge of the room where people wouldn't trample his adorable social parasite and shook his head.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh," she said. When she realized she was holding onto Qrow, she did it again. A bit annoying, but she put a shotgun on Quill. She was the nicest person he had met in Beacon and probably in Anima as well, so he didn't mind being an emotional rock. She was taking a while, though. The room emptied, leaving just them inside.

"Ugh, Qrow, why do I hate people?" She wouldn't share eye contact.

"Everyone has something to learn," he said.

* * *

 _A/N: Shouldn't have worn cargo pants, Tai. You're missing out on some angst. Thanks for reading this one! We're finally at Initiation, let's see how that shotgun goes. Sorry for this one being a little late today, I went on a long bike ride. Heh._

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	6. Chapter 6: Night Zero

Chapter 6: Night Zero

* * *

In the ballroom, the students were tasked to get a good night's sleep before Initiation. Because there was no problem gathering a bunch of hormonal, athletic teenagers together in one ballroom with barely any supervision. Qrow had no questions with the logic behind coeducational lodging. None at all.

Speaking of barely any supervision, Qrow wished that one of the supervisors would stop following him around everywhere. Petey didn't offer anything but unintelligible ramblings about when he was in school and every woman he allegedly kissed and every Grimm he beheaded with his axe. Time to ditch him.

"Sorry Petey, gotta go."

"I'm here to make sure you don't," he said, muffled through his mustache.

"C'mon, you've inspired me with your conquests of the hunnies. I gotta be just like you." Qrow patted his shoulder and walked past him, through the door to get some fresh peace. Peter was left astounded by his student's progress. He wiped an invisible tear from his eye as he watched his prodigy leave the room with a bumbling blond hot on his trail. Ah, how could he stand in the way of a Qrow making his own stories to share? Especially Portly ones! Why sleep in a den of men when he could be drowning in honey!

Qrow, unfamiliar with the entire campus, let alone the Ballroom he never planned on going near, passed by the windows on his way to find peace. His slouched posture and hands dug into his pockets combined with his fabulous clothing made a funny image. Of the women looking at him, a pink-haired one eyed him with a certain bashfulness he recognized, marking her as a fellow hedonist. She was on the to-do list. That had to wait though.

Taiyang's loud and bright voice interrupted his reflection. "Dude, where are you going? I'm coming with you."

"Why?" Qrow cocked an eyebrow at him. Even his sleepwear had pockets along the leg. Damn. Slightly better than the pants, but not by much. At the very least, Taiyang was good at fighting and knew plenty about it.

"C'mon. First night at school. Unsupervised. You're dressed in clubbing clothes. You have a banging sister you're gonna help me with. How could the epic Taiyang Xiao Long not participate?"

Qrow cringed at the mention of his 'banging sister,' though he couldn't help but admire his confidence. Raven did need to get laid, anyway. No, he cringed harder at the word 'epic.' At least he was ecstatic and friendly. Confidence bordering on cockiness, but if Summer wasn't lying it was well-placed confidence. If overbearing and immature were his only faults, Qrow could live with that. Not that Qrow was the best judge of character, anyway. He liked Raven.

"To be honest, I just went outside for fresh air." That took Taiyang by surprise, but he continued undeterred. The blue gleam in his eye swelled with vitality and Qrow knew that Taiyang's antics would get him in trouble with Goodwitch. Who reported straight to Ozpin. And Ozpin would know that Qrow had friends on the first day, reflective of the rest of his school year. On top of that, he might get to bang someone. This was an all-around win. It'd be the tactician's move.

"Yeah, dunno. I've got some shreds of self-respect lying around." Even if it was uncharacteristic of him, he just wanted some peace and quiet tonight. Time to reflect.

"Damn, Qrow. Guess I gotta do it myself."

"Have fun."

"Operation: Night Zero will commence with or without your strategies!" Taiyang cheered. He rallied his invisible troops to his raised fist, but he mostly made a fool of himself to the girls peeking out the window to see what the noise outside was. Not a cute look, but whatever.

"Guess it's commencing without," Qrow shrugged. He dug his hands into his pockets and walked off into the body of Beacon. Taiyang's mouth crimped in the corners, not at the lost opportunity of perversion, but at the lost opportunity of bonding. Taiyang didn't chase after him, though. That was desperate, and real men were never desperate.

Guards stood outside a gunmetal gray tower. It looked important. He steered clear from it, not wanting to be told to go back to the ballroom. While sleep was important, every single second from the Tribe to the ballroom was spent in the presence of somebody else, constantly draining his energy. Raven only half-counted, but it was nice to be truly alone. He walked. And kept walking. Past the tall, terrible tower that penetrated the skyline and inserted itself into every horizon surrounding the city of Vale. Important things must be done there. On the top must be either completely mundane office space or the stage for epic dragon fights. Oh no. Epic. Taiyang had wormed his way into Qrow's head. Past the terrible tower was the library. Sadly, it was closed. It would've been a nice place to read and perch for the night, away from everyone and enjoy true solace.

It was strangely dead. Every other year must not have arrived on campus yet, because everything Lionheart's scroll convinced him kids did in school wasn't happening. No drinking, no partying, no roaming around late at night in search of Kitty Khan's favorite nacho dish. He kept walking. The cold Valean breeze nipped at his revealed chest. He felt alive. Cold but bearable cold was an unfamiliar feeling; the Animan Wild was a constant lukewarm given the marshes. He wouldn't have known that without Ozpin's book. Huh. Maybe he should read more.

There was a busy garden in the middle of campus, but past the library and the training facilities behind it was a forest path. Nice. Qrow started down it, a walk would do him some good.

* * *

The tall, terrible tower held a secret so dark that even Glynda couldn't indulge in the knowledge. That mantle was too heavy, the burden would break her back atop all the other responsibility Ozpin placed on her. This secret was his to carry, and his alone, which was ludicrous.

Ozpin added an extra zero on his coffee order. 100 sacks of beans would be enough for himself by the time they'd go bad, but he wanted to see if he could push that further. A new personal best. The only problem would be the money spent on it. It'd be hard to cook the books and hide these expenses unless he put it on his Bank of Vale personal card, but that would put off paying down his refinanced espresso machine. Four months worth of lien for that machine was a steal, but it stole more from Beacon's coffers than he thought.

The report Leo had left for him concerning the Spring Maiden wasn't shaping up well. While she agreed to stay at Haven, she was getting antsy. She wanted to use her powers for good, and hiding them away from her fellow students enraged her. Keeping her hidden from Salem's lackeys would prove difficult if Leo's grasp on her loosened. What Leo did wasn't parentage; it was a loose guidance that was resigned to a doomed fate if Ozpin didn't step in at some point in the distant future. She needed confidants, trusted confidants that she could share her secrets with and have no chance of her Maiden powers being noticed outside of Ozpin's sphere. But as of now, the only students he felt he had a proper sense of trust moved onto staff, which wouldn't bode over well with Haven.

A lot of things Ozpin chose to do didn't bode well with Haven. For example, Beacon's Initiation has been called into question every year, every conversation Ozpin shared with Leo. What the lion couldn't ram into his numb skull was the Grimm were captured, declawed and had their power neutered, and were placed strategically. Nobody with a brain would throw untested children into a forest full of truly threatening Grimm and still run a school for so long. The illusion of randomness was to trick the students in thinking they had a choice and everything played by luck. Students. So young and impressionable.

But Ozpin needed trustworthy student intelligence.

How oxymoronic.

The most interesting incoming freshman was Summer Rose. She didn't understand the scope of her powers, given the combination of her warrior's eyes coupled with her depth of combat knowledge. Given her physique, she'd be a typical glass cannon support with the ability to shotcall a battle properly. That would require a huge amount of empathy between her and her team to not trip over her words and flub commands, which would be one of her major faults. Also, Ozpin was scared of her selfless values. She wasted precious time today teaching Qrow about adding onto his weapon. That wasn't good on her invisible protege resume.

The plans for teams were already finalized. Summer and Taiyang were spaced on pads according to how Glynda predicted their movements. Summer would understand walking is much safer than flying over the forest and land as close to the cliff face as possible, and Taiyang would push out as far as possible. If they took the neutered Deathstalker they had captured earlier, and placed it at the very lip of where Taiyang would land, he would drop right into a fight. Summer's caring nature would put Taiyang in her path, they would match, and their tight childhood friendship would form a good partnership. Summer would lead team SCRT, which had a proper Point, Fighter, Gunner, Defensive composition with other students with potential, and she could be raised into the silver-eyed warrior Ozpin needed.

The crux of this plan was Summer being the first intervention to Taiyang's battle with the neutered Deathstalker, so one of the mysterious twins were placed next to him. If her name was to be trusted, Raven was expected to be self-sufficient and proceed toward the mountain with haste, and would assume the best partner would also be action oriented. She wouldn't interfere with Taiyang's fight.

The other twin, Qrow, was much more cerebral and tactical. His main goal would be finding a suitable partner and would presumably sit in a tree unnoticed until a submissive student who complimented his midrange fighting style was available. Then he would swoop down on him or her. Qrow sat on the fence between pragmatism and dignity, which is the antithesis of a good recipe for loyalty. He seemed loyal to himself at the core, given his haphazard relationship with his sister and his understanding of his standing in Mistral. Making a partnership with Qrow was impossible, given his current state of mind.

Qrow, as such, was stationed near enough to Raven that they would pair together and would mesh into team QRTZ with other self-centered students and their team would function as a friendly union of loose ties rather than the true family teams should be constructed into. Qrow and Raven, despite coming from the same blood and presumably the same childhood, were not close. They were autonomous bodies and separated more often than they pooled their knowledge. At least with Qrow at their head, he would learn proper management of his resources.

Their growth would be interested. SCRT and QRTZ would be interesting teams in the upcoming year.

Ozpin stared out of his spiteful spire and noticed Glynda giving Port a earful. Such a lecture on the night before Initiation. It was a wonder she trusted him enough to put him on the Initiation team.

* * *

"Your hair is so wild, you're like a warrior princess!"

"Yeah, it's very… hairy!" Summer added.

"Touch it and I'll cut your fingers off."

"Feisty." Taiyang put some space between him and Raven. She wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. Flirting the night before a battle was to take place? What a social faux pas. Even someone from the Wild could understand that. Tomorrow's events took priorities over whatever his hormones infected his mind with. Luckily for her, the conversation was interrupted by Ozpin's underlings' approach. The blonde kept the rotund man's ear in her pinched grip as he yelped for help.

"Good evening, Glynda." Raven bowed her head slightly. Taiyang and Glynda both stared at her with some disbelief, but continued on.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you two, but Peter told me that Taiyang and Qrow escaped the ballroom and Qrow has not returned." Peter's ear was red with pain and she clinched it once more to earn another yelp from him.

"This isn't my problem." Raven cocked an eyebrow and tried to excuse herself from the conversation. It didn't work.

"Perhaps not, but there is a security risk in having a Mistralian criminal running amok with his proper chaperone left in the ballroom. If you could use your Semblance, it would be much appreciated." Ozpin already informed her, it seemed. Glynda punished Peter some more, and Raven had to stifle a giggle. He deserved it after the hell of a tour she was put through. The fact that she allowed Taiyang and Summer to hear this conversation was a pain; now the dolt had information about her. Hopefully he wouldn't use it against her.

"What you're asking is impossible. I've used it twice today and that pushed my norm." Raven said. Not true, but they didn't need to know that.

"I see. I shall have to find him myself. Good night, students." Glynda left as fast as she came, taking Peter with her. Good riddance.

"We should go find Qrow. We can't let Glynda find him, he'll be in rough trouble on the first day." Summer took her cloak from her bag.

"Dunno about that. You heard what she said. Qrow is a criminal. He's already on Miss Goodwitch's shit list. Plus, he turned down my invitation to start this year off with a bang." Taiyang crossed his arms. What a petulant child. How could a remarkable fighter be so petty, Raven had to wonder.

"I'm surprised Taiyang can say something worth saying. My brother is no idiot. If he traps himself before the school year starts, he deserves his punishment."

Summer sat, dejected, and put her cloak back into her bag. She must have felt some innate need to play the hero whenever someone was in danger, which must have stemmed from a sheltered childhood and a naiveté that the world had yet to beat out of her. Summer would learn. Just as Raven did. Just as everyone did.

* * *

Before the rude interruption, Qrow sat at the cliffside that Bartholomew said their Initiation would take place. He thought about surveying it to understand the landscape better and have an advantage over other students, but he didn't. He was tired. Mentally drained from the Bullhead and every other thing that went on today. This alone time finally allowed him some time for rest. But all good things must come to an end, and the intrusion upon his alone time came upon him.

Damn Semblance.

A vicious growl emanated behind him. He should've saw something like this coming. He went too many days going okay. Qrow hopped to his feet. Beowolf. Easy Grimm to kill, if he had Quill on him. He didn't. And Qrow was positioned horribly; against a cliff face, and the only proper directions to dodge an onslaught would be left or right, which would still place him in a precarious position. Not to mention its packing tendencies would bring some more enemies coming his way. Dodging was a bad idea. Killing it was a better one.

Both were awfully difficult empty-handed.

Plan A: Dodge for dear life. Plan B: Kill it.

Its bony spine and humanoid way of walking rendered its forward advancement powerful. Supported by its hind legs and hips, staying in front of it would be deadly without countermeasures.

Thinking time was over. It padded towards him, lurching down on all fours. Its red eyes contrasted with the dark sky. It was quicker than him. Fuck. This was not a fair fight.

Qrow faked a left but toppled over to the right. This Beowolf didn't think three steps ahead, so it did not follow the feint. It probably only thought one step ahead, so it lunged forward and pivoted where Qrow previously stood against the ledge. That was a solid idea. Off the cliff it would go. But hand to claw combat didn't work out in his favor. Neither was back down on the ground. He pushed off the ground towards the path, towards safety, but the Beowolf was dead set on a brutal rushdown.

Get to the path, he thought. He ran to a dip that ran uphill on both sides of him, putting him at a strange low ground to stymie an approach. Not as good as the high ground, but better than nothing. Okay. Good. No longer trapped, he took a second to rest and think. Beowolves have good ears. Good noses. Quick claws. Good forward advancement. Escape was probably impossible. Waiting for someone else to come was slightly less impossible. Fighting it was impossible. Damn it all.

Maybe the Beowolf was a few steps behind, because it rushed him despite his strange positioning. It allowed him to grip the Beowolf's shoulder, and push behind him, which put him in a great spot. Behind a Beowolf was one of the only safe spots. The beast was confused at the mouth of the path, having lost its prey, and Qrow gripped the bones protruding from its body.

It'd be impossible to kill without a weapon. But one of the dorsal bones would make for a makeshift dagger. Staying in close with a dagger meant victory, and he'd be able to dodge a mauling as its arms were lanky. Okay.

New Plan A: Use dorsal bone as dagger to kill Beowolf. Plan B: Get mauled.

Using leverage to his advantage, Qrow broke off one of the smallest bones jutting from the Beowolf's spine and gripped it with his thumb on the end. Barely maintaining his position from its awful thrashing, Qrow jabbed the Beowolf in the steaming eye. It howled in pain. He removed it and stabbed the beast again and again, and Plan A was working.

Qrow fucked up. Attaching to a Beowolf's back meant it couldn't attack him conventionally, yes. But Qrow gave it too much credit. Thought it wouldn't pull a move so ridiculous that it would leave it open to a straight up murder. But the Beowolf didn't have that intelligence, that self preservation. It tossed itself on its back and almost impaled the meaty part of his left calf on a spike. He maneuvered his way out of harm, but the Grimm flipped itself slowly, and Qrow was stuck with the new Plan B.

The Beowolf, excited for the kill, howled one last time. Qrow took the bone and stabbed its stomach, but it made little difference. The second it brought down its arms, he was mauled. Its one eye blazed with fury.

Hopefully Raven would do better than he did. Learn from his mistake of wanting to have some alone time.

The arms came down.

Qrow's torso was first.

Huh, that barely hurt. Barely a scratch to his aura. These claws weren't very scary.

Dumbass Beowolf. Couldn't kill him right. That wouldn't do much. It was almost like it retracted its claws and settled for slapping his sides. This was more a romp and tickle than anything.

Maybe it would have killed him if it had an hour of mauling to wittle down his aura, but an airborne stone rearranged one side of its face. The beast's neck cocked sideways, and not in a healthy manner.

In anger, Qrow planted its bone into its face again. And again. And again. And on the sixth stab, the Beowolf began melting away, and Qrow was left with a tattered shirt and a barely scratched aura, panting with a Grimm bone in his hand, facing the woman he had met this morning.

"Thanks for the help, Glynda. I think one of your dogs got out."

"An initiate shouldn't be outside of the ballroom before Initiation."

Purple enveloped Qrow. She was literally carrying him to the infirmary without putting a hand on him. Amazing, if a bit demeaning. The nurse's office was part of the circle that centered around the terrible tower, so the walk was not far. He was laid onto a stretcher, while a fox faunus sadistically looking over him.

"Awh, it didn't even leave a dent. Come back soon, darling." she said with a sultry voice before closing her door. It sent chills down his spine. Qrow hoped he didn't have to meet her again.

"Thank you," Qrow said confused.

"Tsune is fine," she responded from behind the door. What a strange woman.

The Beowolf did nothing. Absolutely nothing except ruin his shirt. That was strange. Out in the Animan Wild, Beowolves were lowly but still threatening. He'd killed plenty with Quill, but a huntsman without his weapon is not much of a huntsman. Wait. No. He didn't aspire to be a huntsman, this school thing was ruining the Chief's plans. Still, his pride was severely wounded. Qrow turned around, out of the frying pan and into the flame, where Ozpin loafed on a couch and Glynda sat at his right.

"Miss Tsune is more scary than that Beowolf. You gotta quit manicuring their claws, Ozpin. Don't you know that's bad for them?" Ozpin smiled through a sip of his mug, his eyes gleaming with a strange satisfaction. Yes, smiling at a student who could have been potentially murdered. No, that didn't make much sense, Ozpin must've known he would have been fine upon hearing that. Damn. They really did manicure the Grimm for Initiation. He thought more than Qrow assumed.

"What were you doing alone and away from the ballroom?" Glynda asked.

"Before the second interrogation of the past month, I'd like to say thank you for saving me. And thank you for clipping that poor dog's toenails."

"I don't want to ask twice, Qrow. You have a criminal record in Mistral and are lucky that Ozpin offered to take you when he did. You were allegedly on Ozpin's tight leash, but it seems I will have to hold it for now. We do not understand your motives, only that you were almost smart enough to kill a Beowolf with just your hands. Beacon does not need a trained killer walking around its campus at night."

"Okay, I'm sorry. You're right. I'm a criminal. I stole. I stole a lot. But I wasn't plotting anything nefarious against your school. I legitimately want to attend here and become a huntsman. I was just... walking. Sorry."

"Just walking?" She asked. She looked to Ozpin, who played his poker face too well.

"You know how much goddamn time I've had to spend with people the last few days? All you damn Beacon people talk too much. So many words. So many goddamn words. Between Summer and Bartholomew and Taiyang's distracting cargo pants, I don't think I've learned anything."

"Except how to listen," Ozpin pointed out.

"I mean, I suppose."

"And what did the Beowolf teach you?"

"That if I'm getting mauled by a Grimm, cross my fingers someone throws a rock at its head."

"Qrow, what if you told that someone to throw the rock?"

Qrow didn't dignify that with a response. He was implying that if Qrow wasn't alone, this wouldn't have been a mess. Or that if he had asked someone to look after him, this debacle wouldn't have happened. Wait. That's what Taiyang was trying to do. Oh. Well, shit.

"Qrow, what if you called your locker to bring Quill your way?"

"I can do that?"

"Perhaps you didn't listen to your tour guide very well."

"It was Peter Port."

"Then you learned even Peter Port has something useful to say."

Glynda's straight face almost cracked. Almost.

"Don't tell the other students that we hand pick the Grimm for Initiation. If they knew that, the pressure and fear of it wouldn't keep trailblazers like your friend Taiyang from walking straight to the objective. Keep our little secret and nobody has to know about how you spent your first night at Beacon visiting the nurse with your shirt in tatters." After Ozpin finished talking, he winked and Glynda cringed. He really did call the shots on this campus despite Glynda probably running a much more legal establishment.

"How'd you know keeping secrets is my Semblance? You still don't know my last name. I can keep it that way." Qrow smirked.

"Have a good night's sleep." Ozpin smiled, rose, and left much happier than when he arrived.

* * *

 _A/N: A short one this update. I wanted to highlight what traits we're going to be looking at in this story, sorry if I didn't make it very subtle. Also, headcanon of mine that the Grimm during Initiation aren't at full and proper strength. I doubt a man as smart as Ozpin would pit a dumbass like Jaune against a giant Nevermore, and it would definitely give the kids an ego boost. If you guys want me to take To Find a Perch into a certain direction, feel free to leave a review!_

 _Also, welcome to all the new followers! I hope you appreciate this fic as much as I have fun writing it. Having a community around this decently niche time is dope as hell. Nobody really writes STRQ fics and nobody really reads them aside from my dumb ass, so I kinda just wanted to fill that hole myself. Cheers. Here's to a long one._

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	7. Chapter 7: Initiation Initiated

Chapter 7: Initiation Initiated

* * *

"I would like to dispel any rumors surrounding teams. Today, your teammates will be chosen. They shall be teammates for all your years here at Beacon, and as such, it will be important to have quality teams. Every team shall be made of two pairs paired together of our volition; every pair shall be produced as a direct result of Initiation." Glynda took a second to clear her throat, which was a mistake. Give Taiyang an opportunity to talk, and he will talk. Qrow learned that lesson yesterday afternoon.

"I call Summer!" Taiyang interrupted. Yeah, that made sense. Someone who beat in skulls and someone who did everything else.

"Sadly, Beacon doesn't operate on 'dibs.'"

"Oh," Taiyang said.

"It's operated by the first person you make eye contact with after landing. Happy four years." Ozpin sipped at a mug, and Qrow squinted hard to make sense out of the conversation. It didn't work.

"It's important to note that despite keeping watch and grading your performances, instructors will not intervene in the Initiation process. After being paired, your goal is to locate relics in the abandoned temple at the end of your paths and return to the top of the cliff. Your choice in relic and your prowess in every facet of the mission will be graded appropriately. Now, please take your positions."

Qrow removed his hands from his pockets and went over his battle plan. Bartholomew spoiled that they would be shot from these tiles to land in the forest and would walk a straight path to retrieve "relics." Such a cryptic word. Emerald Forest was filled to the brim with Grimm, but at this time of year, professors would be tasked with capturing and grooming Grimm to keep them from maiming their future students. The normal bushy-eyed Beacon student wouldn't know what a Deathstalker's stinger looks like. Qrow had a leg up on the rest of the students, knowing that none of them would even scratch his aura, and intended on using it.

* * *

In expected fashion, Taiyang blasted off with a haughty "Hell yeah!" and oriented himself to fly as far as possible. He flew out towards the Deathstalker with a gleam in his eye and a reputation to establish. In unexpected fashion, one of the Branwens flew close to him, but her landing strategy was debatable. She landed on two feet, refusing to budge, and took the damage to her aura. That earned a solid C-. As if he were a puppy, Raven imprinted on him with a loud, "You." They locked eyes, and both were happy with the result. Taiyang marginally more, misusing his blood flow.

This ruined Ozpin's initial plans for team SCRT. No matter. It sounded more of a car than of a color. This was a strange partnership. It didn't benefit Raven as well as her brother could have, keeping her most intimate relationship to someone who shared her secrets would have made guarding them easy. Instead she broke the constraints and predictions and zeroed in on the fellow bruiser without a combat Semblance. Unless someone fed her information on Taiyang's Signal records, that decision made no sense. This Branwen was to be feared. The conversation was hilarious.

"You."

"Raven! We're partners! Oh, fuck yes!"

"Let's go."

"Don't you think we have some time to get to know each other? You don't even know what I can do! We can't just walk in there and expect results. Let's relax."

"Your name is Taiyang Xiao Long, you have an almost undefeated record despite having no Semblance, you spent too much time training and not enough time relaxing at Signal to the point your family was called in to force you to play computer games. You can handle yourself well, and I won't have to worry about you being torn to shreds."

"Damn Summer, always revealing my secrets..."

"There's a Deathstalker in a clearing ahead of us."

"Oh. You have good eyes."

"It's easier to see with a closed mouth."

She smirked when he didn't respond. That wasn't the optimal pairing. It was a waste of Taiyang's initiative and lack of forethought to be bound in the supporting position. If grouped with Summer, yes she would be leader, but Taiyang's strong personality would diffuse her control over the team and create a more balanced and independent team. Instead, Taiyang would serve subservient to immature tendencies.

Her brother did not leak information to her, though. She was wary approaching the Deathstalker, but made the first move. It snatched her with a quick pince, but Taiyang rose his hammer, Vulcan, high and broke off its other arm. As she was released, Raven's ire rearranged the local landscape to include Deathstalker mincemeat everywhere. Huh. Ozpin would have to ask the gardener to try that next time. It was a nice aesthetic before the bits dissolved, but the two were already walking away before that happened.

What a strange turn of events. The next four years were going to be an exciting headache.

* * *

Qrow shot out as far as possible, knowing damn well he wasn't going to be punished for it. He extended Quill out to catch on a branch, and he rotated two whole circles before he slowed down enough to perch on a lower branch. His brain took a second to catch up to his body after a violent spin, but at least it probably looked cool. Looked cool meant cool score. Plan A: Walk straight towards the temple and pick up a relic, hopefully meeting a partner who pressed through all the action, pairing him with someone who championed both battle prowess and a good head. Plan B: Meet someone along the way.

Some ways off in the distance, a furnace turned on and a scraggly blond voice with something to prove shouted loud, followed by an insect recoiling at a hit. Nice, that was probably Taiyang. The fact that there was only one audible noise was scary; either he knocked whatever he was facing flat with one hit, or it was giving him a remedial lesson in eating dirt. Either way, wasn't a part of his business.

Qrow would just get in his partner's way, after all. Like ruining the easy operation of stealing Lionheart's motorcycle. Just an easy in and out odd job, they had the keys and scroll in hand, but Qrow fucked it all up as usual. Or last night. Everyone was having a peaceful night until Qrow broke out of his cage to stretch his wings and some Beowolf invaded his peace. Misfortune was impossible to avoid; and while it certainly was useful in battle, torturing his friends and only family member worth mentioning was not an optimal use of his Semblance. Nor any Semblance. Why he was boned out of a proper Semblance was beyond him, and it was unlucky to have the unlucky Semblance and how could he keep friends when it was his fault he pushed them away with his negative four-leafed Semblance.

Every step he took, he left behind a frown or a waved fist. The new people were nice, but they'd end up the same exact way everyone else had. They'd get real close, stub their toe one too many times, and stay on the other half of the Tribe for the rest of their life after realizing life was easier when Qrow wasn't working against them.

So he'd get the damn piece.

Alone.

With the power of misdirection at his disposal, making it to the temple wasn't difficult. A dysfunctional partnership of loud students that Qrow hoped to never know the names of came into vision and drew Grimm attention with their negative outlooks on each other. He could use some whiskey right now.

"What kind of name is Gretchen anyway? You think just because your brother is some sort of a dust-inhaling monstrosity of a person that you get to join up at Beacon? No. No, don't even think about that. You're stupid, your family is stupid, and I wish that the Headmaster will separate us once this is over."

"Yes, I made a mistake. I didn't have to approach the Nevermore. I apologize. But now that it's an issue, we shouldn't attract more Grimm with yelling. Let's calm down, assess the situation, and move on."

Poor Gretchen. Girl deserved better than who she got paired with. Oh well, no point in crying over somebody else's funeral. Qrow kept progressing and walked past every other group, reaching a seemingly untouched temple. There stood a series of columns, all bearing a set of rather large clay chess pawns and a king piece in the middle. Whoever Ozpin paid for the pottery must've made decent money, because they were well crafted. He hefted a pawn; it was weighty. He almost stashed it in his pocket, but a timid voice interrupted him.

"Hey, Qrow? Why don't you grab the King?"

He turned around, and locked eyes with Summer Rose. Technically, since he had a relic in hand, this fell under Plan A. Now he had a 66% rate with succeeding on Plan A, which was nice.

"I don't know. I just grabbed one."

"You got here first, I'm pretty sure you'd get a better grade with that one," she trailed off. Damn, she was probably right. Summer was doing him a favor. He put back the pawn and picked up the King, which was much heavier.

"Hey, I know it's weird that we're partners and all because I pretty much just followed you the entire way here and just kinda followed in your footsteps because it really seemed like you knew where you were going, so I'm a little sorry that you got paired up with me because I've been mooching off of you for the past thirty minutes, but I'll make it up to you I swear!" Her monologue spouted off at the speed of Bartholomew, it was hard to catch the entirety of it. Knowing Summer, it was probably an apology, so he went with assuaging any concerns she could concoct.

"Don't worry about it." One of his best lines.

"Thank you so much," Summer said, color rushing back into her face. For a second, she was more pale than her cloak.

The two looked at each other for a minute. It was a nice silence until he realized it wasn't a nice silence for Summer. Then, he felt bad, and tried to make light conversation, but Qrow wasn't necessarily the best at conversation, so he tried to put the conversation somewhere in Summer's playing field.

"So, thanks for Quill. Easier to move around with him, now." He hadn't paid it much attention, but it sort of did. It was a half truth, but that was better than her cautiously eying him down for support in a situation she made awkward.

"Thanks! Really, I based all of my designs from the Grimm Reaper's scythes, partly because she's silver-eyed like me and apparently that's a good thing from what Ozpin says, and partly because she uses a very strong structure for retractable weapons. I noticed Quill isn't as sound because he's just two parts put together before I got to him? So maybe, because we're partners and all, we can watch some Grimm Reaper videos together and try to recreate her design? That would be nice. It's fun to have another scythe person around."

Ah. She slowed down a little. Okay, that was good information to know. Summer is a big fan of some Huntress named the Grimm Reaper (what a pretentious name) and wanted to help him make Quill better. Oh, and she was going to be his partner for the next four years.

Wait. Summer? The innocent, wide-eyed girl who got emotional when Raven cut her off? Oh shit. That was bad. How was he going to drink with her around? Oh shit indeed. How unlucky. Wait. Semblance. Wow, the world was really out to get him. Four years was long. What if they fucked in the first year and every year after was just awkward? School is weird.

"Qrow? You there?" She knocked on his head, but didn't get much of a response. "They probably think we're going to finish super fast because, well, we got here super fast. We should, uh, go."

She was right, getting a move on was much more important in the moment than reflecting for the future. He shook his brain back into the present day and tried to keep his back straight for the walk back to the cliff.

* * *

A bird of prey let out a sharp cry, but Raven wasn't worried. If the cave let out two ways, the duo was safe..

"Awh, it's a cute little baby Deathstalker!" Taiyang's voice reverberated through the musty cave air, trying to tickle the baby Grimm. It nipped at him with tiny pincers and he jumped back in fear.

"Damn. Dead end. Let's leave."

On their way out, Taiyang insisted they took two minutes to label the cave.

"See, if you wet the clay, you can make funny pictures like this… And boom! When the little guy grows big and strong, I will have done other students a service." Taiyang put the finishing touches on the Deathstalker drawn on the mouth to a musty cave.

"So, do I hold myself well, or what?"

"You do. Hard work got you where you were, not a Semblance." Took the words right from Summer's mouth. And they worked.

"Thank you! Someone who gets it! God, I've worked so hard to get where I am. That's why I'm the best. Honestly, not having a Semblance has been a blessing. It made me realize that talent only takes you so far. Hell, some people have a Semblance where they can tell if it's going to rain. That's it. And they can still be Huntsmen. And so can I. In fact, I'll be a better Huntsman, because I don't have to rely on my aura. I'm pretty much the best in Beacon." Sure, Taiyang. Raven was on board until he started spouting nonsense.

"If you keep up this tirade, Grimm will be after us."

"I hate it! Everyone at Signal always looked down on me until I started pounding them in the arena. Now look at me. Fuck them, Raven. Fuck them. Thanks for appreciating me."

The bird of prey cried loudly again, this time overhead. Raven shook her head. "Both of us have no way to hit a Nevermore."

"Should we run?" Taiyang asked.

"Yes."

And they ran towards the temple, a Nevermore hot on their trail.

* * *

 _A/N: Happy New Years, merry Christmas, happy holidays, I hope you guys have had a good break! Enjoy the new chapter. The next one's going to be real fun._

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	8. Chapter 8: Birds of a Feather

Chapter 8: Birds of a Feather Fucking Die

* * *

Team SCRT would never blip into existence. Poor Taiyang, the team would have been three girls and him. That would've earned Ozpin some brownie points. Had Summer and Taiyang been paired as per the original plan, the other first years Gretchen and Carmen would have made a great complimentary team. Summer would work Point, Taiyang would be the Fighter, Carmen would've covered them as a Gunner, and Gretchen would defend the entire team with her weapon and semblance.

The team would have been unconventional. Most Huntsmen and Huntresses acknowledge they will be a part of a team but still arm themselves as if they'll be going on a one man war. This allows for teams to split up easily and cover more ground, but at a grave cost; going alone runs the ever-present risk of being mowed down by unexpected Grimm. Despite the growing death count of Huntsmen to Grimm as the evil queen continues to rise, Huntsmen still go off on their lonesome. Ozpin objected to this philosophy in his mind, but he had to be pragmatic. His resources in this war were slim and the political bonds keeping Beacon in power could be ripped away with a single misstep.

SCRT had Gretchen, negating any possibilities of them being a team of lone wolves. Her personality always played to the team, seemingly to overcompensate for her older brother. Not that he was a bad man, because he wasn't. Anybody who could think critically would know that. Yet Semblances that look evil cast an evil shadow behind a person, and having the ability to be a Dust junkie and not feel raw explosive material in his veins seemed evil.

Gretchen, unlike her brother, kept to the path of a Huntress. Instead of a ridiculous Semblance like her brother, she had something much more tame; she named it Kinetic Storage, collecting the kinetic energy from objects hitting her aura. She then channeled that energy through her weapon, 'Le Roc,' a shield almost as large as her, and blasted back. This made her amazing at taking hits, which might have influenced her personality as a protector or guardian.

Giving her Carmen was a great move for the team. Carmen had a huge chip on her shoulder, despite being somewhat competent in battle. Any team with her on it would have fights and fallouts because of her combative nature, and someone had to be able to neutralize Carmen's bad behavior. She would have verbally ripped Taiyang to shreds had Ozpin not paired her with Gretchen, who would double as a mediator and a confidant for her. It was a terrible amount of responsibility to place on a child's shoulders, but Gretchen grew up faster than most.

That still worked out. Summer, Qrow, Carmen, Gretchen wasn't a bad team. Qrow filled the fighter role, somewhat. He was much more of a agile fighter, but it worked. What would he name them? S and Q made silk. Wait, how could he fit a G in there? Damn this naming scheme. It was almost worse than the grading he didn't do. He almost wished he had a computer to do it for him. What's in a name, after all?

* * *

Qrow and Summer were walking their way back to the cliff to cash in their king and left the stone rubble in their distant past. They tried to avoid Grimm on their way back just like on their way there, not because they could do any damage, but because they got in the way. If Port pulled all their claws out before putting them back into the forest, why even bother fighting them? Qrow wouldn't learn anything by culling down unarmed Grimm.

"Are we going to get graded down for not fighting?" Summer asked.

"He told us to get the relic and return. Not fighting is faster."

"But Huntsmen are supposed to kill Grimm."

"Huntsmen are supposed to do what they're told. Usually it's to kill Grimm, but what if there's too much Grimm and you have to pull little Timmy out of a house on fire? Sometimes, you have to prioritize the objective. I wouldn't worry too much about it."

Man, if Ozpin was watching, that quote was definitely going on his record, but it could be twisted twenty different ways. Prioritizing the objective? Huntsmen are supposed to do what they're told? He didn't even want to be a Huntsmen and he was going to be the fucking posterboy of this year's class with that quote. Seriously, that was some of the dumbest shit he's said. Be a mindless drone working for someone and never question their decisions? A yellow and black bumblebee for his white and green queen? Nope, nope, never. Whatever, it got Summer to stop opposing their progress. He promised Ozpin he wouldn't tell the other students about the Grimm being neutered, and a clash of values seemed more realistic than the truth.

Coming from a small clearing in the trees, Qrow and Summer perched on a branch and heard a woman loudly screaming.

"There's little Timmy, Qrow! We gotta go!"

Damn it all.

* * *

Summer bolted through branches and broke through to spot other students fighting off a wave of a large wave of Ursas. Summer extended her scythe to a sniper and began to take pot shots at them, revealing their position in the trees. Nice. There wasn't even a point to this. They couldn't scratch aura without their claws. Unless they let the Ursas do some dental work, those black bears were harmless. Nine Ursas. Nine. Up against a girl wearing some sort of mafia suit and a plain girl hefting a giant shield. It looked more like a castle door than a shield, melding wooden backing and metal panels into an intimidating weapon. She stood to frontline for the mafia girl and let her rain bullets on the beefy bears in front of them. That might have worked if they hadn't been surrounded. They were going to lose points for that, definitely. They should have maintained distance to prevent something like this from happening. Oh well, not the time for that.

"Going."

"Cover their flank," she responded between shots.

Using Quill on a branch for a nice flourish of an entrance, Qrow landed behind the tommy gun girl and wiped out an Ursa for them. Hopefully they caught the pretty entrance. He wasn't quite sure, because before any pleasantries, the tommy gun girl already started barking orders. Something about protecting her. Not like there was a need to. They could have crushed them had they noticed the Ursas wouldn't do any damage.

One Ursa rose on its hind legs. It was funny, actually. Qrow cocked it an eyebrow and a smirk before it came crashing down and he could behead it, but the plain girl jumped in front of him screaming "I've got you!" The ursa jumped at her shield-door and the plain girl glowed a bright purple. A part of the door opened and blew it away with a gust of purple, sending the Ursa flying into a try. Qrow watched it dissipate into the wind.

"That was great."

"Finally, someone who understands!" She wasn't sarcastic. Relieved if anything. This tommy gun girl must have been one bitch of a partner.

"Nobody is my frontline! Do you expect me to frontline for myself?" A shrill, irritating voice erupted behind him. He was right.

"Hit me, friend," the plain girl asked.

"Hit you?"

"Semblance. Purple."

"Right," Qrow said. Makes sense. Probably something to do with being hit and launching it back. He swung Quill at her door and the plain girl sent the three of the ursas flying. They didn't splat and splurt like the other one, but positioning was positioning. With the hail of bullets Summer and tommy bitch provided, the four wiped the crowd of Ursas from Emerald Forest.

"You're good," the plain girl said.

"Don't be modest. You saved me with no effort." If he couldn't tell anyone about the neutered Grimm, might as well use it as cover for laying the groundwork for a friend. And by friend, he meant fuck buddy, but that wasn't important just yet.

"Thanks. It's nice to be appreciated."

"Wow, passive-aggressive much? Can you like, stop? Hello. Why did you jump on the ones behind us? You could have saved me some aura there, buddy."

"They didn't hurt your aura at all," Qrow quipped.

"And who told you that?"

"Your aura."

"Fuck you, you red-eyed freak." Was that supposed to be insulting?

"How long have you dealt with this?" Qrow stage-whispered to the plain girl.

"It's not as bad as you think. I'm Gretchen, by the way. Gretchen Rainart. Thanks for saving us."

"You've got more than just me to thank. Summer, get down here!"

Summer did just as Qrow did, spinning herself off a branch to make a cute pirouette of an entrance. Once she realized the show she put on, she tried to hide her face in her cloak. It didn't work.

"If it was up to me, I would've walked past you. Thank her." He wasn't lying. Qrow hoped to never become a leader, not for him and Summer, not for his team, not for the Tribe. That would be a life full of regret. It would be the one thing Qrow would absolutely hate more than the set of circumstances that made him help a bitchy girl with a tommy gun from giant declawed bears. Probably the most absurd statement he'd heard in a while. Even more absurd than Mother telling him and Raven to go to Haven.

"Thank you, Summer." This Gretchen was a kind soul. She truly was plain; olive drabs, dark tans, very boring colors compared to the obnoxious designs he had seen the past day. Having a normal person around, who didn't talk fast or had a chip on their shoulder, was nice.

"Does anyone want to trade partners?" The tommy gun girl asked. Gretchen winced, but didn't respond to the comment. Poor girl.

"Do you guys have a relic yet?" Qrow asked.

"Uh, we're both girls? Not guys. And what does it look like? Do you see us carrying one, asshole?" Qrow ignored her and turned to Gretchen.

"They're past this clearing, follow the tan path to our left. It's a broken temple made of stone, shouldn't be too hard to find."

"The fuck? You're not going to come with us?" The tommy gun girl asked.

"Sorry, we're trying to get a good grade!" No 'sorry' needed, Summer.

"Yeah. I already told you, I didn't want to help."

"Seriously?"

Summer tugged at Qrow's sleeve, wanting a quick exit. Gretchen could take a cue, so she started off towards the path after some more gratitude and the girls were gone. Regardless if they were here, that was bad. That dumbass was so negative that it was going to draw Grimm their way. Qrow and Summer took to the trees again to return to the cliff.

"Hey, why did you look so cocky at the Ursas? You're really good at fighting. Amazing. You took them out so easy. You did. But why did you look so cocky?"

Oh. Shit. Should he tell her? He couldn't just keep secrets away from his partner for the next four years, that's not going to help build a good friendship. That might ruin the next few years if he just started lying to her right from the beginning. But the same applies to Ozpin, who already did him a huge favor in taking him and his sister. Promises were promises, he didn't want to break that trust within the span of a week.

Damn. What's the right play here? Ozpin was definitely watching right now. Wouldn't be surprised if there were cameras and audio recorders in the forest. Telling Summer meant he valued his team, but not telling Ozpin meant he wasn't lying when he said the comment about duty. Did Ozpin want a malleable drone? Or did he want a thinker?

Qrow had a duty to Ozpin. He liked Summer.

Why did Qrow care about what Ozpin thought? Goddamn it all. He owed him. To be fair, Ozpin appreciated Qrow and recognized his abilities. He skipped out on jail time to become a Huntsman and Ozpin didn't even know Qrow's last name. It felt nice to be trusted. But 'trusted' could just be another word for 'manipulated.' The only person in his world without an agenda to push onto everyone else so far was Summer Rose, the nice person who just wants to be friends and do good. A nice goal, but an aimless one. Investing in Ozpin would be investing in the future, investing in a way out of the hell house he was expected to return to and lead into 'the new age.' His own mother only saw him as a tool for her own agenda. Summer was refreshing. This was a hard one.

He picked Ozpin and hoped he never had to choose again.

"I hadn't killed a Grimm in a while, just felt satisfied I guess."

"Ahh, that makes sense!" She justified.

"Speaking of Grimm, we ought to move faster. That girl with the gun is gonna be bringing them in by the horde."

The two stayed close to a mountain side, spotting a Nevermore overhead. They hugged the rock to try and progress past it, until Summer's good nature overheard another person to save. So damn annoying. She didn't bother listening to his little speech about priorities. The voice was so incredibly shrill and scared, it must have been that tommy gun girl again. Qrow followed Summer closely, quickly progressing towards the Nevermore. The one Grimm that didn't have its wings clipped.

Slowly, a familiar set of cargo pants and a very recognizable shade of black hair came into view. Feathers rained down in Taiyang's direction, and poor Raven looked more disappointed than scared. Damn. Either Taiyang got the jump on her or Raven went out of her way to find the bastard. That's going to be a weird partnership for sure. Raven liked control.

"Cave! Cave!" Taiyang screamed. With that pitch, it was pretty easy to figure out who was screaming earlier. He started running towards the mountainside. Then why did he and Summer dash over here? Their efforts were wasted. Summer ought to listen more.

"I have an idea," Raven said, passing Qrow up. That's new.

* * *

The Nevermore circled above, still raining down feathers at the mouth of the cave Taiyang had painted on. The baby Deathstalker hopped into Taiyang's lap and he started petting it, soothing him. It kept trying to pince him but it wasn't strong enough to escape from his grasp.

"What happened to Signal's best?" Raven accused.

"We have no range. At all. We have Vulcan and a sword. We're screwed."

"Yeah, _you're_ screwed. Summer and I are leaving." Qrow got up.

"No. We're not."

"Worth a try," he shrugged. Ah. Her brother was already being whipped by his partner, who turned out to be an attractive young woman. That's why he could never lead properly, he was always bogged down by feelings. Disgusting.

"C'mon Qrow, after everything I've done for you? I helped turn Quill into a shotgun. We're friends, Qrow, don't just leave me hanging."

"How did Operation: Night Zero go?" Qrow crossed his arms. Childish.

"Are you Huntsmen or are you children?" Raven asked. Qrow glared at her, knowing how stupid the line was. It worked. While it was true they never meant to become Huntsmen and this was just a combat and tactics school for them, it was important to keep up appearances. The cave was silent, save for the cute, angry Deathstalker Taiyang continued to pet. It was cute, but she'd never admit it.

"What's his name?" Summer whispered to Taiyang.

"Ravang. After the best partners in Beacon." Summer offered a sad smile. Raven was tired of being told what to do; it was time to experiment in leading. Ozpin would take notice and reward her accordingly.

"Here is our plan. I will scale part of the mountain. Qrow will stay at the bottom. I will activate my Semblance. Qrow will scale the mountain as well, jump into the portal at the foot of the mountain, fly through the higher one, and behead the Nevermore."

Scratch what he said earlier, that was the most absurd statement he'd heard in a while.

"Genius, absolute genius," Taiyang praised.

"What if I miss? What if the portal is aimed the wrong way? How will we scale the mountain while the Nevermore is out there?"

"You can make portals? Wow."

"You will not miss, and we will be able to scale the mountain, because Summer and Taiyang will distract the Nevermore and keep it where it needs to be."

"I'm just bait? Why do you two get to do the actual fighting?" Taiyang whined. The answer was simple. She had no grasp on their abilities, no grasp on their resolve, no understanding of what they could properly do. This was true adversity; not some initiation test. Raven knew she could rely on her brother for battle prowess, for filling in the gaps of her thinking, for everything. Summer put a hand on his shoulder, and he stopped questioning it.

"A good leader relies on their people, not themselves."

"What do you know about leadership?" Raven asked Qrow. She walked up to his snide, unshaven, pale, dishevelled face, rife with every ounce of loathing from her childhood. Of course he assumes he'll be a good leader once Beacon is over. He must assume he'll be the leader of his team and he'll be great at it. What arrogance.

"He's been speaking in proverbs all day. Ignore him. We'll do the plan, it's great to have someone calm." Summer mediated. Of course he has. He thinks he has the intelligence to destroy dogmas with one line. Disgusting.

* * *

Ozpin sipped from his mug and cocked an eyebrow. Qrow and Summer deviated from the team members he pushed them towards, who even asked for help to obtain their relic. But when confronted with the same issue instead presented by Summer's old friend and Qrow's sister, they decide to offer assistance. Rational until presented with emotion.

Qrow acted as if he didn't want to, yet he stayed. There was no reason to stay with Summer in their partnership, as he got to the relics by himself unphased. He must be an emotional thinker; either Summer's opinion is very important to him or he loves his sister from a distance. Neither of these options made much sense. He lied to Summer about the Grimm during the examination and has barely interacted with his sister since he arrived at Beacon. On the Bullhead, the two barely talked.

"Qrow is too big of a variable," he explained to Glynda.

"We know nothing of his motivations."

"He feels some sort of allegiance towards us if he is willing to lie to his partner. We've had Summer's loyalty since Signal. We should push both of them into our pocket. Having a partnership working for us would double down on their loyalty, being validated by the other."

"What of Carmen and Gretchen? They've performed unexpectedly poorly."

"Let's see if they'll be of any use. We need a Maiden. A silver eyed Maiden would be too difficult to control, so Summer is out of the question. Also, I'd rather not use Amber. She's too unpredictable. We'd run the risk of her leaving our protection."

"Are you implying we should use Gretchen? She fights with a shield. A defensive Maiden is unheard of."

"It would paint a target on her head, helping her Semblance. Gretchen would not be a bad choice."

"We will see, Ozpin. We will see."

Ozpin returned his attention to the strange combination of Summer and Qrow. Qrow was forced to fill in the specifics of the plan, and did a short scouting mission before returning and drawing in the soil with a stick. He acknowledged its huge chance of failure and that someone would need to catch him. It required an extraordinary amount of skill from him alone, but he signed his name to it. They followed the plan Raven had asserted with little to no deviancy, as Summer and Taiyang ran out of the cave to hold the Nevermore in position and away from them as Raven and Qrow scaled the cliff. Summer had not used her Semblance once before acting as a distraction, which was mildly amusing. She didn't rely on it as much as Ozpin assumed she would. Taiyang waved Vulcan around, shooting fire up towards the Nevermore, creating an updraft. How thoughtful of Qrow. Speaking of Qrow, he sat barely in front of the cave's entrance, dutiful and unamused. A portal appeared near him. Ah. Her Semblance must be tied to people. That's why they weren't jaded during their detention in Mistral, they knew they could leave any time they wanted.

Qrow scaled the cliffside. He must have been used to climbing; it was more deft and quick than the flailing expected from typical Beacon students. The twins were trained and experienced. Huh. Qrow confirmed that the Nevermore stayed in position, returned Quill to his back, and hesitated. Raven reassured him. He closed his eyes. He hesitated again, but shot out from the cliff straight towards the rift on the ground. Elegant, like his landing strategy. With complete trust in his sister's Semblance, Qrow flew into the red, reappearing next to Raven now travelling at an inordinate speed. Like a golden arrow separating the sky, Qrow flew straight for the Nevermore. As he approached it, he fingered Quill's handle. Qrow spun as the Grimm looked towards him. The Nevermore noticed too late. High above ground where any man could reach him, Qrow beheaded the Nevermore and seemed like he'd never touch the ground. The cameras barely caught the proud grin he wore as he slowly descended.

To his luck, Gretchen noticed the fact Qrow did not have wings, and used her Semblance to absorb the shock from falling so high. Had the Beacon staff actually graded Initiation, that would have bumped her from a 60% to a 80%.

"Nice catch."

"I didn't catch your name," Gretchen said.

"Qrow. It's Qrow."

They shared a grin. Taiyang, Summer, and Gretchen congratulated him on a job well done. He didn't listen. He was too happy with himself. Rightfully so, as in all of Beacon's history had Ozpin not seen that level of teamwork to wipe out an airborne Grimm. Yes, there had been students powerful enough to do it by themselves, but to already have a strong sense of cooperation between not even partners, but a full four students, was phenomenal. There were outside forces at play here, and they would rear their ugly heads soon. But it was worth it.

"Glynda, make them a team name. We cannot miss this opportunity."

* * *

 _A/N: Don't mind the chapter having two different titles, the navigable has a character limit that didn't fit the full thing. I've read plenty of Couer and Paradise Lost and understand that Initiation can be a tropey, lengthy, ball of overall unhappiness for both the writer and the audience, so I tried to keep it less than 7k words. I hope you enjoyed the past two chapters as much as I enjoyed writing them. Our first act is all wrapped up, let's see what Act II has in store for us!_

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	9. Chapter 9: Skirting the Issue

Chapter 9: Skirting the Issue

* * *

The Headmaster's office was cleverly nicknamed by all the Signal students as "Ozpin's Terrible Tower." The general consensus was if a student was sent to the tower, they would come back changed. Students surmised rumors of spending tens of thousands of lien on coffee were a lie to hide Ozpin's true self: an unhealthy warmonger conspiring against other countries at Vale's expense. Well, that's what the brainy students said. Normal students just wanted to know how good the coffee was.

The office was gorgeous. The desk was transparent to its inner machinations, revealing the cogs and gears that kept the terrible tower terrible. Huh. That was a neat aesthetic. Gears keep the machine working, gears are the shoulders on which the hard work rests. Raven didn't seem to appreciate the desk as much as Qrow did, though. She seemed pissed.

Glynda stood behind Ozpin, both of them wearing severe faces.

"We're here to discuss to how amazing we are, right?"

"Yes. Too amazing for a first-year Beacon student. It's time you two elaborated on your history. I wanted to test the waters to see if you were capable of attending Beacon and you utterly destroyed my expectations. Not only are you more competent fighters than any student from Signal, but you already know how to cooperate in combat. Placing you in the first year would be an insult to your skills."

"I'd graciously accept acceleration." Damn, Raven. How honest of her.

"Of course you would. Ozpin accepts a pair of fighters from a Mistralian prison that can teleport home at will and now wants to place you higher than students who have worked at Signal for years."

"Glynda, you're right. Thank you for giving us this opportunity." Glynda squinted at him.

"Uh, Miss Goodwitch. Sorry." Her face eased up.

"History. Now."

Qrow and Raven shared a look. They didn't decide anything beforehand. Well, she'd go with whatever he decided. He had to think about this properly; a story that would explain their prowess but still keep them in the school. Uhh. Well, shit. The best way to lie is by omission. Give them the truth, while leaving out the shitty parts. They were raiders. Raiders somewhere near the Tribe to explain robbing Lionheart. Ah, Shion. They robbed Shion. That wasn't a lie. Probably the best place to start.

"Well, we're twins. The Branwen twins. About to hit 18 soon, so we're pretty close to the age for first years." Raven looked at him, incredulous that he'd share the truth. It would take a big network of spies for the name Branwen to mean anything to Ozpin, and being mostly honest would help his credibility.

"Born and raised raiders, grew up near Shion. Leather, stealing from villages, to keep the camp going. North Anima. Forrest-y, swampy, you know the place. Our camp had tournaments, which was good for gambling and for fighting. Raven and I were always amazing in the ring and against the Grimm, so the Chief said 'Go to Haven and become stronger.' So we did, but the only things raiders are good for are stealing, so we stole from the rich town of Shiisa where Headmaster Lionheart lives. And we stole from him. Oops. We applied to his school. Boy, was he pissed."

Ozpin held onto his poker face, unlike Raven and Glynda. They both looked astounded at him, as if he laid all his cards out before betting. C'mon. Qrow wasn't that stupid. He gave them what could easily be checked. The names Qrow and Raven wouldn't mean anything to anyone outside the Tribe, and even if Ozpin got his clutches on someone, this wasn't lying. This was probably the best play.

"What made you choose scythes?"

"Have you seen a Lancer? I'm not trying to get that close to Grimm."

"And you swords, Raven?"

"My mother uses swords."

"What of your mother?"

"She wasn't a very good one. But she tries."

"Very well. What was the biggest Grimm you've slain?"

This interrogation was going to be worse than the one in Mistral. This would be the only time in Qrow's life that he would miss Abel and his nonsense about parallel dimensions.

* * *

After their visit to the Terrible Tower, Raven and Qrow joined the majority of their fellow first years as they waited for the team announcements in the large hall. They fumbled around in the crowd, but Taiyang was easy to find when he kept a giant hammer strapped to his back. He was relaxed, chatting with Summer and Gretchen. Gretchen's partner, the tommy gun girl, was nowhere to be found. Qrow wasn't sure who ran away from who, but he was glad for Gretchen nonetheless.

"Hey, how was waiting without us?"

"We were talking about you, bro! Glad you didn't die up there." How genuine, Taiyang. He was hard not to like, at least when he wasn't forcing dumb responsibilities onto you.

"I still can't believe it. Believe you. That was amazing," Summer chimed in.

"C'mon, Summer. It wasn't just me. Did you see how Taiyang used his fire to create an updraft? He and you kept it there. And Gretchen, catching me from breaking my aura and spine? It wasn't all me."

"Someone is bad at taking compliments. That's a good problem to have. I sincerely hope you two are on my team. Some good news would be nice." Gretchen smiled. Cute and saved him from certain death. Oh, how Qrow wanted to fuck that face.

"Oh, that is definitely a problem with Qrow. Believe me." Summer wasn't helping. Her snideness may have went unheard in the packed room, as all the students were summoned into an unorganized mob again to listen to the faculty speak. If it was anything like last time, the presentation would be quick, include some ridiculous chess metaphor, and Ozpin was going to stare at Summer. Something about her was special to Ozpin, and being paired up with her seemed less like fate and more like a deliberate move to pair someone he wanted to mold and influence with a red-eyed freak he didn't know the last name of.

Qrow would come clean to him. Eventually. Being good and being unknown were his two pieces of leverage to staying in school. It would be bad for Ozpin if the twins' attendance was ever brought into question. Something about how Valean taxes were paying for the education of a Mistralean war chief who is waging war on civilization would probably piss off somebody on the Valean council. Scratch probably, it would. In the meantime, Raven could report back to their mother whenever she wanted to, using her Semblance. Wait, maybe she already did. Qrow doubted she would use her Semblance to walk a few buildings over. He'd have to interrogate Peter Port. Damn it. He hoped he'd never have to talk to him again.

"I'm still mad," Taiyang said.

"At what?"

"Raven and Qrow did the actual Huntsman work. The best students at Signal were bait for you guys to actually get the job done. You don't trust us."

"Yes, I don't trust you. I met you two days ago and had an hour to learn your abilities. I've had seventeen years to memorize every strength and flaw in my brother's arsenal, and I knew that ridiculous portal move was in his realm of possibilities."

"Raven, play nice. He's your partner for the next for years." Qrow tried to rein her in.

"I'd rather have a difficult but honest relationship over an easy but fake one." Good start to that, but she was right. Qrow didn't know what to say, so he nodded and tried to read what Taiyang made of what she said. He wracked his brain and squinted in silence.

The rest of the first years went silent as Ozpin and Glynda approached the stage. They were flanked by a series of colorful teachers who would be teaching them over the course of the next year. Assistants must not have been included in that group, as Peter wasn't present. Oh well. He wasn't difficult to find. Look for the stream of disappointed women.

"Every country in Remnant has battled against the Grimm in more than combat. To reject their rule over humanity, we celebrate color and culture, even our warriors. Students, you will not be separated from your partners. You will be paired with another set of partners and given a color as a team name using your initials. This emphasizes the individual Huntsman, as their letters are used, coming together as a singular unit."

Ozpin began reading a laundry list of names. There were more first-years in this Initiation than Qrow thought. It seemed like his team was being saved for the end, keeping him on edge. Damn it. He didn't know what he wanted. The stress was killing him.

"Baba Thebes, Medea Shephard, Westley Buttercup, Dion Sees." The named first-years joined Ozpin onstage. The hall erupted in cheer; one of them seemed popular. The last one didn't take his sunglasses off and posed to all his adoring fans. Man, Qrow hated school gatherings.

"The four of you retrieved a white pawn after escaping a horde of Ursas. For the next four years you will be working together as Team Tumbleweed, lead by Baba Thebes!"

TMWD flashed on the screen. The crowd continued cheering. The student in sunglasses, who seemed to be fun if he was on your side, asked over the crowd, "What the hell kind of color is tumbleweed?"

"A light brown, Mister Sees."

Qrow had high hopes. Some of the names were were pretty cool, others were archaic words only found in century-old dictionaries. The whole culture jargon and using colors to resist the evil black of Grimm was a great explanation and a moving story. It was strength. Collective strength. However, names like "Team Tumbleweed" didn't portray strength, they portrayed "I had less than 24 hours to make your names work into a team, deal with it." A computer could have done better. Oh well. Qrow hoped his team name wouldn't be shitty.

The room started laughing, including Summer. Team TMWD enjoyed some more time on stage before leaving.

"Carmen Habanera, Gretchen Rainart, Shiro Wan, Heather Shields." Only one dude, and his name was Wan. Hehe. "You all retrieved a mixed set of black and white pawns. Although each partnership did not encounter the other during Initiation, you four had almost identical ideas on how to pursue the goal. Please welcome team Chartreuse, lead by Carmen Habanera."

CRSS flashed on the screen. Gretchen didn't look happy. Poor girl. The room cheered them on because it was a team of cute girls and a student ballsy enough to choose bald. In a place of pink hair and white clothes, baldness made the biggest statement. Never mind the fact no normal person would pull chartreuse from CRSS. Qrow couldn't even think of what color chartreuse was. He kept his fingers crossed for his team name.

"And our last team."

Oh shit. He really did get matched with his sister. This was going to be a strange year.

"Summer Rose, Taiyang Xiao Long, Raven Branwen, Qrow Branwen." The four of them walked on stage, earning a big round of applause. Just like the other teams, their faces and initials flashed across the board, spelling out STRQ. What the hell was that supposed to mean? The applause didn't stop. Unless rumors about Qrow had spread to the other teams, it wasn't for him. Taiyang must have been popular.

"Hell yeah! Team Strike!" Taiyang yelled.

"Mr. Xiao Long, it's pronounced Stark. Lead by Summer Rose!"

Summer looked at Qrow, horrified. Poor girl. Instead of offering her solace, he raised her hand in the air and cheered along with the rest of the crowd. She tried to dance her way behind him to shield herself from the crowd, but she'd never learn that way. No, she'd have to stand there and take the applause.

Qrow's heart slowed to a beat of relief. It wasn't him. Qrow didn't have to lead. Yes. Summer was a strange pick for the job, seeing that Raven lead them during the mission. She was too compassionate to lead. She'd put them in harm's way if it meant saving a puppy. That wasn't his problem, though. He didn't have to lead.

"What the hell kind of color is stark?" Taiyang groaned.

"Stark white," Raven seethed. She was not happy. Her frown glistened onstage, putrid hubris gnashed against duty. That was going to be one hell of a conversation, he already knew it.

The others may have thought that she was mad about the color. Qrow knew better, and would be pissed if he was her, too. After being complimented to hell and back by Ozpin, and him going so far as to interrogate them, Raven must have assumed the role would be given to her. She earned it. Ozpin choosing Summer over her was either a misstep or there was something Qrow didn't know about. Given all the things that happened earlier, he was leaning towards the second. Great, now there were two things to investigate. Whether or not his sister visited home and why Summer was so important. Beacon kept him busy.

The four filed off the stage and Glynda explained how the dorms would be divided up and they would all be lead to their rooms to spend their first night. Co-ed rooms. How would that work? Uniforms. Ah, uniforms. Qrow didn't know much about them, aside from that they were stupid. Classes starting the day after. Damn, Beacon worked a grueling schedule. This was Qrow's home for the next four years, and it was going to grill him. He was determined to enjoy every minute of it.

* * *

The dorm wasn't too far of a walk. Big and spacious. Very red. The rug was red, the curtains were red, the sheets were red, and a shelf sat underneath a large window. The two Signal kids had to pick up their bearings, so Raven and Qrow entered the room alone. People definitely lived in these before him. It smelled of man smell. The one that nobody liked, including the man who smelled. Qrow took a bed in the corner and flopped onto it.

"Sure beats couches. And drooling on your back." Raven sat on the closest one.

"Why not me?" He could pretend like he didn't know what she was talking about. But after living together for so long, it was easy to tell when she was stressed and why she was stressed. It'd be more accurate to say he knew everything about her, he surmised. Raven was deceptively simple. She wanted power. Power that had been tantalizing her, power she couldn't get by being the daughter of a chief and not the heir. Being Raven must suck. Poor girl. He had to offer her something to cheer her up, that's what brothers did.

"Ozpin always looks at her during speeches. There's something secret there."

"Of course there is. Damn Summer. When will merit be rewarded? I earned leadership. I led. I led Taiyang, I led you, I led Summer, and Ozpin gives me nothing. What do I say when I return to Mother empty-handed? That I did well and still failed? Only strength matters. I will change Ozpin's mind." Damn. A lot to unpack there. She was right, all merits suggested Raven would become the leader. But there was so much they didn't know.

"Strength is the most important if, and only if, all the cards are on the table. He knows plenty we don't. Chances are, there's a good reason for this. I'd wait it out before saying anything."

"All you do is wait and react, Qrow. You keep waiting and I'll seize everything."

"Love you too."

They laid in silence, uncomfort taking a seat on Qrow's chest and weighing him deep into the mattress. It had been the first non-prison mattress in weeks, and damn did he want to enjoy it. Not that he blamed Raven for raining on his mattress parade, but he wanted to nap.

He couldn't nap while his sister was pissed. She needed her alone time to deal with her feelings. Qrow could take a cue, so he patted her on the head (which she didn't appreciate), told her he'd get himself a drink and some books, and left the room. The room was boring, it didn't have anything to do. And this was a school, full of stuff to do. He shouldn't sit around doing nothing, that was a waste of time and a waste of his skill. Moonshining seemed like a fun hobby to look into, but he doubted a school library would stock a guide on breaking the law or helping him create a moonshine mafia on campus. Moonshine mafia or culling Grimm for money? Both were good career choices. Anything but home.

It was difficult to get out of the dorm. Everyone was wheeling their bags into the building and up the elevators, so getting out was a pain. Qrow walked against the flow of people, everyone entering and him leaving. He retreated into his sanity's sanctum by ignoring their existence and pondering the more serious questions of life: why was he still here, when would he tap Gretchen, and where was the glorious coffee hiding?

The library was empty save for the librarian. What to read? Ozpin's book about Anima was interesting because it explained his childhood, but he didn't want to return there. Ever. That was Raven's job, damn it, and if he never had to see the Branwen Tribe for the rest of his life, he'd be a happy man. If Anima was useless, why not Vale? Yeah, why not Vale? He went up to the the librarian; her name tag read Samantha.

"Hey, where are the books on Vale's history?"

"Valean history lies with the rest of the history books. If you're looking for the books Head Researcher Oobleck has written, that would be in the history wing."

"We have a history wing?" Qrow laughed. "Why?"

"We cannot trust civilian historians to venture out into the world of Grimm and perform excellent research. Even with protection, their lack of understanding would breed fear, which would bring Grimm. The country allots Beacon a small fortune to research and uncover truth. Facts and secrets are in high demand." Qrow ought to write that one down.

"That makes sense. Though it begs the question of 'what is Ozpin hiding from us,' doesn't it?"

"Are you a first year?"

"Yes."

"Huh. Well, run along to Head Researcher Oobleck then. Try not to get caught up in any of his schemes. If you take interest in his work, it might take interest in you." He wouldn't mind working alongside Oobleck. The man was quirky and didn't know what a period was, but he was skilled in what he did. That level of commitment commanded respect over the flimsy motivations and weak defense that acquiesced to the world that pushed him into a school for Huntsmen that he did not plan for. The world made Qrow its bitch. Having a knowledgeable ally that didn't withhold information and interrogate him and watch over every twitch in his fingers would be great. Forging a friendship with him would be easy. Oobleck already liked him through association.

Qrow thanked the librarian and wandered in the general direction he was told. A slight breeze tickled his pecs and sent chills down Qrow's back, forcing him to shiver. This shirt was stupid. Shirts were made to be shirts. Cloth worn over the body to keep him warm. This dumb drivel that other students could see through, and a collar that crept down his chest, prepared him for clubbing more than it did killing Grimm. To think he got up onstage with this. The entire student body must have assumed he's well-acquainted with poles and fruity drinks. Qrow would never be caught in a club nor drinking fruity drinks. Drinks should be vile and depressing, not sweet and fun lies colored to a fake red. He decided to trade this "fabulous" shirt and sunglasses in for the first thing he could find.

Qrow meandered over to Oobleck's door. The wing truly was small. He begrudgingly exposed his pocketed hands to the wind and cracked open the door to the history research lab, which had more people than he expected.

A woman with a cream-colored bun and glasses turned on her heels to face him. She walked over with the grace of a Grimm, clumsily gripping on tables to try and greet Qrow. Poor girl.

"Hello!" The woman held the 'e' a little longer than a normal person would. Qrow reassured himself that he was judging her character in a few seconds. He should give her a few minutes, at least.

"Hey. I'm real new to Vale, so I wanted to read up on some of your history."

"Ah, then you've come to the right place because that's what we are paid to do! And don't worry about this whole 'your history' nonsense, if you live in Vale, it affects you, it's now your history too! It's great that you're interested in what we do here. We read up, write up, study up, and sadly sometimes make up history to fill in the cracks of our current understanding of Valean history so we don't make the same mistakes again! History is the laboratory of the politician as long as they fund it!" Qrow was sure her words were interesting, but he couldn't catch them. When the Head Researcher was around, this place must rake in sound complaints.

"My name's Qrow."

"Nice to meet you, Qrow! I'll remember that one. You'd think I could remember names because I've learned so many but words on the page are different than the ones I hear! I'm Jaimie Peach. Wait. No. I'm Professor Peach. Sorry. Wait."

"Did I hear Qrow?" Bartholomew called from a door further into the history lab. "Jaimie, we have a guest! He's an intelligent one. From the Initiation grades, he took down a Nevermore while it was still airborne. A strange use of a scythe, Qrow, but I can't argue with your results. Historically speaking, using scythes requires patience and defense. Huntsmen and huntresses such as yourself and the Grimm Reaper are pushing us into a new age of combat."

Well, shit. Qrow could use some practice listening, at least.

"Did I get an A?"

"Funny you mention that, our Initiation piqued my interest so I reviewed its history here at Beacon. No student has ever gotten a grade. Many years, many students, zero grades. What a strange promise to make!" Professor Peach was about to continue. He couldn't allow that.

"Wait, we weren't even graded?"

"Nope!"

"Then what's the point?"

Bartholomew dashed off with high knees, screaming off words that Qrow didn't get. He came back with a fat grimoire that had no title on its front cover, and Qrow knew he was leaving this lab with a heavier brain.

* * *

Raven plopped the last box on the floor of the dorm.

"Geez Tai, I can see more cardboard than floor! How much stuff did you bring?"

"My whole room. Duh."

"Why?" Raven sat down on her bed, proud of the mountain she built on top of Qrow's. First he left her in her time of need, then he avoids the heavy lifting of moving in. Heavy was a strong word. Tedious. Plus, Taiyang's father had a mustache that begged to be lopped off from the old man's smug face. Jovial. Full of paternal love.

"I'm turning this place into a mancave. Gotta make it a female-friendly place for when I bust out my moves on that special someone, you know?"

"Who's that special someone?" Summer asked, picking through a box to find Taiyang's gaming console.

"Raven. Duh." How cocky. She liked that.

"You're wearing cargo pants, Taiyang."

"Ouch. And please, call me Tai. We're friends."

"Me too!" Summer chimed in. It wasn't her fault she was selected as leader, but it stung. She didn't deserve it. To be fair, Raven didn't earn being a daughter either. But logic was thin where fury was thick. She tried her hardest to not find morbid pleasure in her exclusion.

"And here's all our uniforms. Two for all of us. I'll hang them up." Summer got halfway to the clothes rack before Taiyang interrupted her with a devilish smile. A snicker formed in the corner of his lips.

▣ ▣ ▣BREAK

Qrow thought he'd only spend a bit of daylight in the lab, but he spent hours. Professor Peach had some interesting things to say about the city of Vale and its questionable motives. He didn't trust her enough, he guessed. Under the assumption that any historian looking into their country's past must be a patriotic lunatic was dangerous, because both Bartholomew and Professor Peach knew Vale too well to be patriotic. The council made questionable decisions, Ozpin's predecessor's made some questionable decisions, and that trait passed onto him. The history was genuinely interesting, and Qrow had no qualms spending hours there. He'd be back soon, but now it was time to sleep.

Qrow cracked open the door to Team STRQ's dorm. It was almost midnight, and Summer probably got the team to sleep for tomorrow's classes. Without turning on the lights, he crept into the corner and flopped on his bed. A cardboard box's blunt corner surprised him, and he hit the floor.

"Ow."

"Out with some chicks, huh?" Taiyang asked.

"Kinda. Visited Bartholomew."

"Shut up," Taiyang laughed.

"Can do. Sorry for waking you up."

"It's whatever. Don't forget your skirt for tomorrow."

"What?"

"Your skirt. For tomorrow. It's Unity Day."

"No, it's not."

"Sure, bud. Maybe if you were here when Glynda went announcing this shit you'd know."

"Did she announce why there's so much shit on my bed?"

"That's your punishment for leaving us for chicks."

"Taiyang, I'm not sure listening is your strong suit."

"I'm not sure commitment is yours. You ditched us on the first day, man."

"I'll try not to do it again. You guys are great."

"Haha, I'm holding you to that. Get some sleep."

The mattress felt as great as he wanted.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you folks enjoy it. My editor is great at adding nuggets and references to other fics, and it's been engendering me to read more of this community. Great writing, great fun. See you in two weeks._

 _If you readers could do me a favor, tell me what your favorite sentence was this chapter. I'm trying to hone my writing style, so having your guys' input on what you like will help me publish the best stories I can._

 _ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	10. Chapter 10: Dress Codes

Chapter 10: Dress Codes

* * *

Work flooded over Ozpin's desk and cascaded over the cogs and onto the floor. All for the day job of being a headmaster. Without Glynda, he'd fall apart; she organized all the papers, read every letter and replied, briefed him on anything important, and filled out every line save for the signature. She didn't delve as deep as Ozpin did into the war against Salem, but having a capable deputy was a necessary safety net. However, there were still things only he could do, such as signatures. 600 signatures. 'Ozpin' was no longer a word, it was a shape, a snake constricting the line.

"Old man, I'm back."

Amber walked through the elevator, past the desk, and started parsing through a cabinet for coffee. He didn't want to dignify the theft of his sweet ambrosia with a response, but he ignored the impulse to welcome her back. His most capable agent, a dear friend, but most importantly the Fall Maiden. Keeping her allied to the cause was more important than coffee, to a small extent.

"Welcome back. Feel free to relax until Glynda is here to debrief."

"Sure, if there was something to debrief. Clearing out that subway was a waste of my time. Yes, Watts left his insignia there, but I found nothing of importance. Your first-years could have done that."

"We have to be cautious with these students. Any small sliver of suspicion could lead them straight to Salem, straight to death."

The shadow war Ozpin held against the queen of evil stole most of his thoughts from him, clouding his political decisions when it came to the Valean Council. They were weak. Schools were a stronger bastion against Salem than any government because they were combatants less restrained by national boundaries. The Vytal Festival was lip service to the idea of a nation and the imaginary lines that separated one from another. A Mistralian Huntsman had more in common with a Valean Huntsman than a Mistralian noble. And they understood that! If only politicians could follow suit. Instead, the Valean Council assured Ozpin that the threat wasn't a Grimm that could usurp every nation's power with a dragon, that the actual issue was Atlas armaments. General Ironwood was fresh out of school, but he was not reckless enough to tackle entire countries with his government's secrets running amok.

Arthur Watts was a fiend with many deeds in his repertoire. He figured a well-respected doctor and engineer could reinforce Atlas's tower for the Cross Continental Transmit System (CCT for laymen) and help encrypt medical information. Giving away medical information did not seem to be the worst thing to lose. Once Watts realized that the general encryption algorithm would be also used by the Atlas military, he doubled his efforts and played a larger role on the project. He walked away from Atlas with a competent understanding of the CCT network and its encryption scheme.

Arthur Watts now held the power for incredible villainy. A civilian with the power to decrypt CCT transmissions with ease. Ozpin didn't fully understand the implementation, but he did know that the engineering team who designed the algorithm should have been fired before they even started. If Ozpin couldn't secure his loyalty, Salem would take him. They had to hurry. This 'history mission' was the first step of many to take one of Salem's potential pawns away from her.

"A little information is more dangerous than no information," Amber sighed.

"In any case, thank you for clearing it out. Having you baby-sit historians for days while they investigate would be a waste of your time. I'd rather the students do it."

"How do Peach and Oobleck feel?"

"I haven't introduced the idea. It will be done soon. Quite soon. In the upcoming weeks, of course."

"You're sending the kids that are going to be my lackeys?"

"Yes."

"And one of them is my backup Maiden?"

"Yes."

Amber smiled a wicked smile.

"I gotta push her then. Can't have my understudy weak. We're going to make sure she's worth the effort." How odious.

* * *

Skirts were airy. Windy. Qrow felt bad for anyone who peeked up and locked eyes with it. Summer and Taiyang had to pick up a new part for Vulcan from the Armory, so they told the Branwens to go to Grimm Studies without them. For the first day of classes, they weren't going together. Strange, but Summer was the leader.

Unlike Taiyang, Qrow did the world a favor and shaved his legs before leaving the dorm. If Beacon was going to push this whole unity thing onto the students, why did it have to be in the uniforms too? There just weren't any pants for their uniforms. Maybe Ozpin was looking for an excuse to take a peek at everyone's legs. Understandable. But showcasing Taiyang's hairy tree trunks off to the world was debatable. Nobody had the chance to see them yet.

As the two walked towards Grimm Studies, they saw no other students. Raven was leading him through twists and turns, as if to avoid every other human on this campus. Fishy. Whatever. She could lead him wherever she wanted, as long as it didn't draw too much attention to them. The two were still on Ozpin's shit list, if the interrogation signaled anything. The lying and the prison sentence included, of course.

"Hmm," Qrow said.

"Yes?"

"We're taking a lot of detours."

"I thought you hated people."

"I thought you didn't care about me."

"You think too much," she said.

"Fucking Branwens," Qrow coughed. That included him just as much as her for following along with whatever questionable plans she had in store. Raven wasn't subtle. She'd never be subtle. Raven walks into a room, says what she wants, gets it. Deception wasn't in her toolbelt of problem solving. In fact, the only things on her toolbelt were her sword and her uncompromising glare.

"What were you doing yesterday?"

"Well, I wanted to leave you alone to do your brooding, so I went to the library to check out whatever the old man had us reading on his Bullhead. Apparently Oobleck actually wrote some history books. The librarian pointed me his way and then I waltzed into a five-hour-long discussion about Valean weapon history and about Forever Falls with Oobleck and Professor Peach. They're good people. Perfect for each other."

"I don't think you've ever spoken that much in your life."

"Leaving home does some amazing things."

"You're much happier here."

"We've been here for three days. I'm not sure about that."

"You're not sure about anything."

"Does anyone ever praise you for how nice you are?"

"No."

Qrow didn't need to elaborate on the idea with words and instead offered a fake smile with rolled eyes. Having a smart-ass for a sister was annoying on the surface, but having someone intelligent and powerful covering his back was better than an incapable but sweet person. Coddling was disgusting.

The two rounded a corner and the room numbers started to look accurate. Half of team CRSS was outside a door, the bald guy and the blonde chatting away. He almost remembered their names but the heat of being the last team announced stole the useful spot in his memories and replaced it with the warm feeling of congratulations. Ew. He waved at them.

"Morning. You forgot your skirt."

"Uh, what? And you're Qrow, right? Gretchen talked a lot about you."

"Yeah. And you're…"

"Shiro. Shiro Wan." He giggled. "She's in there. She wanted to talk to you."

"Thanks."

Qrow walked into class with Raven following close behind. Peter Port stood next to a kennel housing angry darkness with tusks, glaring out of its iron cage. He was about to discuss the ethical question of bringing Grimm into a classroom, but Peter Port was far too busy falling over backwards. His mustache sprung to life and danced as he laughed into it, filling the lecture hall with a set of guffaws that assaulted ears.

"Qrow! Qrow Branwen! I see you're making a statement today!"

Damn it all. The skirt was a prank.

"Just like me when I was younger!"

The entire class hall chuckled alongside him.

Qrow grew a bright red and tried to calmly walk up the stairs to take a seat next to Gretchen. She wanted to talk, and he would give her a talk. Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. This is why Qrow drank. To forget about stuff like this. Fuck. He trusted them. Damn it.

"You wear it better than I do," Gretchen said.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Understandable. How's your team coming along?"

"Taiyang and Summer are both from Patch, so they could easily bring stuff over. Moving in was more like interior decorating. Good thing I accidentally skipped out on it."

"Heh, I didn't think you'd like to skip out on work."

"I don't. But happy accidents happen."

"Especially at our age." She winked. Nice. He already won.

* * *

Qrow was potentially the most annoying person in all of Remnant. Raven got to enjoy the initial flush of shame when teacher assistant Port toppled over at the sight of Qrow's legs and she thought that would only be the first car of the pain train. She was fooled. It was the caboose. She sat next to her brother during the Professor's lecture and he spent the entire class period writing on a piece of paper, passing it to the plain girl next to him, and her passing it back to him. They were sharing conversation on pen and paper on the first day of classes. Horrible. How was Qrow going to lead the Tribe into the future if he spent every day of the year talking to women instead of learning and functioning like a true student? Prodigy? No.

"Does anyone want to challenge the boarbatusk? I'd offer Qrow to come up, but I wouldn't want him to flash us something unsavory."

Everyone laughed. Including Qrow. Where did his embarrassment go to hide? She wanted to bask in it.

"I'll do it," Raven said before anybody else could volunteer.

"Great! It's an honor to have a Branwen do this for us." Ah, so Port was told what their names are. Realistically, they were given a roster and Ozpin had simply added their last names to it. Raven didn't want their last name to become a well-known phenomenon. That would blow what little chance of staying hidden they had.

"Does anyone know the proper way to fight a boarbatusk?"

Before Raven got any words out, Qrow stole the chance from her.

"They run in straight lines. Fool it into charging and take a hit while it crashes behind you. It's unarmoured on the bottom, so one clean hit while it's knocked over will take it out."

"Incredible, Qrow!" The teacher assistant cried out.

Raven took the fight, but it was much less impressive with Qrow telling her what to do. It rushed, she dodged, kicked it over, stabbed it. Battle over. Boarbatusks didn't live in Vale. This was supposed to be impressive. She was going to make a display of her skill over the rest of the class, but Qrow sucked all the glory from battle.

She meditated on the idea for the rest of the day's classes. This group of first years had almost all their classes together, and Raven was forced into watching Qrow and the plain girl flirt the entire day. Wow Qrow, you're so knowledgeable. Wow Qrow, you're so cool. Wow Qrow, you're well read. Wow. Wow. Wow. Her brother wouldn't even look at her! He was glued to the plain girl. What happened to being a team?

Taiyang was too busy staring at Raven to care about her. Summer was learning. Team STRQ was shit. Raven wanted a new one.

Glynda's class was impressive. A bout of fights, pitting the students against each other. Battles ended when a student's aura was in the red. Having a meter of aura was outstanding. That would be a useful tool for fighting, knowing how each team member was faring in terms of aura. If only she had a team.

Every student fought in their 'Huntsman outfit.' Qrow and Raven didn't have those. The Branwens were the only school uniforms in a see of individualism.

"Taiyang, it is only fair to pit Signal's best against someone on your level. Qrow, you scored the highest in this year's Initiation. You two will end today's class."

Qrow muttered something to the plain girl about Initiation not being graded. How would he know that? Arrogance, assuming his knowledge expanded that far. No reason he would know that.

The battle was hard fought. Taiyang didn't use his brain at all. Vulcan was best at mid-quarters given its size, just as Quill. Qrow closed the distance between them, assaulting Taiyang with punches. They weren't impactful; Taiyang had bulk and brawn over Qrow. When Taiyang was forced to drop Vulcan to fight this close, Qrow grabbed it and chucked it into the corner. He hefted Quill, and now Taiyang had to fight fists to scythe.

The plain girl wore a dumb smile. She didn't understand a damn thing that was going on. A blind lust for Qrow. Disgusting. When Qrow had to raise his left leg to kick, he flashed the entire class what he decided to wear. She gasped, but kept watching.

Qrow ended the fight by kicking in Taiyang's shins and holding Quill over his neck. He looked satisfied.

"That's what you get for pranking me. Bitch."

"That's a funny way of pronouncing Tai."

The class laughed. Even Glynda had to stifle a cough. But not Raven. This year was going to be horrible.

* * *

 _A/N: That first mission is coming! I'm not a fan of using time skips in the middle of a chapter, so we'll just keep that for in between each one. We're right on the cusp of the fun part; I hope you guys enjoy it._

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	11. Chapter 11: Watt's Going On?

Chapter 11: Watt's Going On?

* * *

"Is the Maiden gone?"

"Yes, you imbecile. Perhaps if your Grimm weren't braindead, they would have been predisposed to run instead of being spoon-fed to one of the strongest women on Remnant."

"Don't insult my babies, Watts. Hold up your end of the bargain."

Arthur wanted to throw this scroll into an incinerator.

"Had we employed my Atlesian technology, we wouldn't have lost your accursed _babies_. I have a low opinion of failure, Merlot. Should you jeopardize my goals, I can send Ozpin a map to your island."

"And if you threaten me again, I will show General Ironwood your political treason and you will be ousted. Let's not play games, Watts. Finish decrypting the subway computers so we can move into the next phase."

"Noted. So long as your Grimm don't destroy it again." Arthur closed his scroll. Working with this madman would drive him over the edge too. He set himself to work; Arthur retrieved the generator stowed away in the caboose where it would blend well. It was heavy. Incredibly heavy. His body wasn't made for pushing around generators, it was made to house the genius to tell others to do so. If Merlot stepped out of bounds again, the true Atlas would have his head.

* * *

Following the skirt incident was peace of a strange variety. A few weeks went by with nothing of importance quite happening. Qrow hanged around Team CRSS and Gretchen around STRQ. It was going to happen soon. Sadly, something was rotten in Team STRQ. If it could be called a team. It was a motley group of loosely bound students who hung around each other out of an obligation to an old man. Raven wasn't pleased with taking orders from Summer, but she wasn't belligerent. She would do her homework, train with Tai, argue why she wouldn't need upgrades to her weapon, win most of the bouts in Glynda's class, get amazing grades in Grimm Studies, everything. Her life was going great, and it was better than learning from the old dudes back in the Tribe who thought they knew their way around a weapon.

Why was she unhappy?

Qrow didn't get it.

"We should get outfits," Qrow posed, staring at his dorm's ceiling.

"We have uniforms," Raven said.

"Yeah, but Tai has his brown get up, Summer has her white cloak, and we are their dumb Mistralian teammates who fight in their uniforms. Plus, you've gotta admit, wearing sweaty clothes for the rest of school sucks."

"We have our clothes from Mistral."

"Too fabulous for me."

"How will we buy them? With what money?"

"Geez Raven, don't be so boring! You guys ought to customize! Oh man, I remember making my first outfit. It was so much fun, going through and picking everything." Qrow could take a hint.

"Could you help us, Summer? When we have the money of course."

"Yes, yes, yes! I'd love to! Let's window shop after the meeting! It's going to be great!"

Right. Checking in with Ozpin. How many times had Qrow been in Ozpin's Terrible Tower? Less harrowing than people assumed, to be honest. Qrow liked Ozpin. He was investigative, an initiator, an agitator. People found him funny because of deadpan humor, but it wasn't humor at all. Ozpin was serious, and that seriousness made him funny to everyone who couldn't see the bigger picture. Not like Qrow could, anyway. He just knew it was there. Ozpin is smart. Powerful. He thinks to the future and invests in what he needs to make it that far.

And right now, he was investing in Qrow. And Raven. And STRQ. And CRSS. That's suspicious. Either something links the two teams and Ozpin is trying to investigate or Vale needs more help than they have. Going for students would make sense. Capable warriors who are still young. Malleable minds who could be swayed to his cause. What was his cause? He could level cities if he had the power to take one country's criminal and bring them back home to be raised into a warrior. Still, they get their money from Vale. That's what Oobleck said. Ozpin wouldn't bite the hand feeding him money; he'd persuade them for more.

If he needed fighters, what was he fighting?

"You in this last one, Qrow?"

"What are we doing?"

"Ultimate Ninja 4, duh."

"Why not?"

Tai only played the big, beefy ninja named Prometheus. He looked handsome, can't lie about that. The only thing bigger than his bulk was his heart, and the character apologized after hitting an enemy. Yeah, sure. "Sorry" helps after suplexing your enemy into the floor. Qrow wasn't into games, to be honest. But having something to do with Tai was more important than his aversion to button mashing.

"Hestia? She's bottom tier, bro. Play your Hades."

"Bottom tier doesn't mean I can't kick your ass."

Tai laughed. The match started, vivid orange letters and a scroll of letters extended, an oversized paint brush fell, and the fight began. Some of these games were real simple. Three different blocks, three different kinds of attacks. Ultimate Ninja 4 built rules and every character on the roster destroyed them. Some couldn't block. There was one that couldn't attack, that was funny. Hestia was quirky, like the rest of them, but her quirk held her back from doing well. She could return to the hearth in the middle of the stage, but it meant she was easy to beat if the other ninja fought over the fire. Which is what Tai did. For three rounds.

"Oh hell yeah! I'm telling you man, switch off of Hestia. You're good at Hades. Play him, it'll be way easier to win."

"Nah, I'll make her work."

* * *

"Alright," Tai shrugged.

Summer lead Team STRQ across campus with some small talk. Weekends were nice; people with money could go to Vale and anything they wanted in the capital city. Bookstores, bars, booze. But Qrow and Raven had nothing. Everything they stole from Mistral was stripped before they left for Vale. As a result, the two stayed behind on the weekends while Tai went out with friends and Summer bought dust and the like. They were both Patch kids, and it took decent money to own a place on Patch. So close to the capital but no population. Owning land there was expensive, but they never had to see their neighbors from the sound of things. Tai's dad didn't want to pay out for a car, so he took a motorcycle everywhere. Imagine having money to buy a motorcycle instead of stealing it from one of Remnant's most important people.

It wasn't all bad, though. Gretchen was broke too. They spent time going over homework and books and movies and playing Tai's GameScroll. In reality, they just wanted to spend time with each other. Being broke had its perks.

The four rode up the elevator to Ozpin's terrible office and there was a cast of characters waiting for them. Standing up, Team CRSS. Behind the desk, Ozpin, Glynda, Professor Peach, Bartholomew, and a woman with auburn hair he had yet to meet. He'd love to, though.

"Welcome, Team STRQ." Ozpin took a sip.

"Thank you, thank you," Tai said.

"How have the last few weeks treated you?"

"Well. School life is more fun than I thought," Qrow managed to get in before Tai opened his big mouth.

"That's rich. I'm glad Vale has something to offer you two." Raven nodded.

"I'm glad these two have something to offer Vale," Bartholomew smiled. After spending hours in the small history wing, Qrow realized the man's eccentricities were countered by his pious work ethic. A whole catalogue of books written by him for anyone with a curiosity big enough to outweigh the fear of thick tomes. It was nice to have Bartholomew on his side.

"Both teams have something to offer Vale. Under normal circumstances, Beacon would try to keep missions for first years off the table until after the Vytal festival. However, a mission has arose for you two teams, should you be interested."

"Yes!" Summer said.

"Only on the condition we're compensated in grades," the bitchy girl added.

"Of course," Ozpin said. Glynda sighed behind him. He continued. "I'm aware Team STRQ is friendly with Head Researcher Oobleck. It has come to the Valean Council's attention that the subway connecting Vale to Mount Glenn needs to be examined for historians to properly understand how we lost the encampment. Naturally, we'd like to send our historians out to investigate. Historians investigated Grimm-populated areas take Huntsmen along with them, and when I asked Head Researcher Oobleck who he would take, he asked to take Team STRQ."

"Qrow has a knack for observation. After regaling some of Vale's more recent history, I realized this would be a good opportunity for him to see-"

"Wouldn't that be flooded with Grimm?" The tommy gun interrupted.

"Hell yeah!" Tai said. Superfluously, Qrow would add.

"Nope." The auburn haired woman spoke up. "I went ahead and cleared them out for you. All you kids have to do is deal with the scraps."

"Then why didn't you go along with the historians instead of us?" Qrow asked.

"Because I didn't want to." Her voice was blithe. Qrow shuddered. She wasn't even lying. No wonder Ozpin was targeting the students now. This woman must have been a top agent to earn the right to do as she pleased and to disregard the needs of Ozpin.

"This is Amber, one of the Huntresses Beacon contracts regularly. She's exceptionally skilled, if a little rash."

"A lot rash," she smiled.

"Our mission would start tomorrow and you would return within the week. Team STRQ would be assigned to me in particular to explore the explosion and any subway equipment near it. Team CRSS would be assigned to Jamie and assist her in examining the tunnel itself for the sake of safety. The tunnel will not collapse, that much we know. But what would it take to collapse, you understand. In recompensation, you won't have to attend class for the rest of the week to rest and debrief with us historians to write the most objective report possible. Although we shall mostly be together, having the same view from different perspectives is important in historical analysis," Oobleck said in one breath.

"What do we think, team?" Summer asked.

"Hell yeah," Tai said.

"What he said but smarter," Qrow quipped. He was apprehensive to trust this new Amber, but Ozpin wasn't stupid. He wouldn't send students to their death.

Raven nodded.

"It's settled! Team STRQ is at your service, Bartholomew!"

"Excellent! Thank you. I believe this will be a great opportunity for you students to get a grasp on what Beacon truly stands for and what tools we have to work with. The Branwens coming from Mistral must outcast you in student culture to a certain extent, and now you will be the most cultured! Thank you. I'll take my leave. We shall meet at the history wing tomorrow to find our entry point in the subway system. It has been blocked by rubble and our job requires more movement than Jamie's group." Oobleck said.

"You guys are from Mistral?" Tai whispered.

"Who is Jamie?" Summer whispered.

"If you'd stop sleeping in class, Miss Rose..."

"Oh, Professor Peach! You don't have to say it so loud, hehe."

The tommy gun bitch opened her mouth again. Qrow offered Gretchen a sad smile and she responded by shaking her head. Team STRQ took its leave, not wanting to witness the cacophony that is a belligerent Carmen. Qrow wanted to plant a punch in her cheeks. Gretchen was not a complainer, so he'd never understand the brunt of her bitchiness, but he learned indirectly how toxic she was.

"To Vale!" Summer said.

* * *

After a pit stop to change into their casual clothes, they were on the Air Bus. Ah, the Air Bus. The only thing in Vale that was free.

They dropped by Tukson's Book Trade. He wasn't in. Weird to have a store ran only by one guy who seemed to have a hectic schedule. What could a bookstore owner be doing that's more important than making money? Anyway. A bar grabbed Qrow's attention. He knew where he was going. Pickpocket some lien for a drink. Goddamn, he needed a drink. It had been too long away from his true love.

They dropped by a dust store. Qrow and Summer browsed the front of the store, and she explained the ballistic dust she loaded Quill up with to shoot its shotgun. Some of the elemental ones piqued Raven's eyes, but she kept her distance from the two. Tai followed Raven around like a puppy, trying to teach her everything. He sold her a little short, though. It's not like living in the wild meant never seeing dust before. They knew about it, the normal stuff, anyway. Here, there were too many options. Why was there one flavored orange? Damn Valeans.

Leaving the dust store behind, they wandered around until they found something interesting. A clothing store caught Qrow's attention, so they stepped inside. Summer was more than happy to oblige.

"What kind of look are you going for, Qrow?"

"Get the cargo pants, bro. You can hold so much stuff."

"Don't know. You have any recommendations?"

"Well…" Summer held the L for a good ten seconds. "If it were up to me, I'd put you in something like the clothes you did Initiation in! Professional, and snappy. Nothing too flashy because that's not how you like to fight. You're kinda darker, easier to blend in with the shadows, easier to-"

The rack Summer was leaning on fell over and Summer scattered into petals. She reformed back where she was.

"See? You had to use your Semblance to stop Qrow's Semblance from hurting you. They suck. Who needs one?" Tai snickered.

"Anyways…" She held the first A for a while. "You're kinda like the Grimm Reaper, you know? Smart. Fast. Tactical. You pick and choose your battles so you always win. So why don't you go for a look like hers?"

"Including the corset? You already did a skirt." Tai said.

"Hey, that shit worked on Gretchen."

"What a player."

"Shut up."

"Come on Qrow, at least do the cape!"

"A cape doesn't sound that bad. Matches your cloak."

This conversation went on for too long. Their whole afternoon devoted to Vale and what Qrow was going to wear into battle. Raven idly explored the dresses by herself for almost two hours before Summer, Tai, and Qrow emerged with nothing in hand to show.

"Qrow and I have to meet up with an old friend. You two go on without us." No, they didn't. If she was talking about returning home, only Raven could do that. How would they get back to Beacon if they both went to Mistral? Whatever. She wanted to talk, and what kind of brother would he be if he didn't want to support his sister in her time of need.

"Are you sure?" Summer asked, pensive.

"She's sure about everything, Summer." The four shared goodbyes, and Summer and Tai left towards the Beacon Air Bus while Raven looked at her brother expectantly.

"Wanna go to the bar?"

"I don't care. We need to talk."

"Bar it is."

They returned to the bar they had walked by prior. 'The Web' in flashy letters. Looked pretty. No bouncer out front, yet. It was 7 PM, and they probably needed the money. A nice place like this had real upkeep. The interior was gorgeous. Inside, amazing lighting, a well stocked bar, color changing holograms, petals, trees. Wow. Stunning. Full of people to pickpocket lien from.

A tall and skinny boy tried to bartend. He wasn't particularly good at it. Even with almost no people, it took ten minutes for the two to be served.

"What could I get you two?"

"Two glasses of Luse."

"Mistralian import. Good choice."

Maybe the kid wasn't as bad as he thought. Not being IDed was the sign of a trusting bartender. But this kid would need an ID to drink himself. Must be the owner's son or something. He was trying to grow a beard out, didn't work very well for him. He brought back the green liqueur. It tasted sweeter than he would have liked, but Raven wouldn't touch anything with a burn.

"You didn't have to send Summer and Tai away. They're trustworthy."

"I can't. It's about them."

"What did you want to say?"

"I hate them."

"Well, we all knew that. What else did you want to say?"

"I loathe them."

"Anything else?"

"I loathe Taiyang less than Summer."

"That's a funny way to say you hate Summer. Is it because she's leader?"

"Yes. Today. She asked for our opinions. Useless. She should have been decisive and chose for herself, and we would follow. A good team would already understand each other in that way."

"She didn't ask for it. She was given."

"I know."

"Then hate who gave it to her."

"I do."

God, they were getting nowhere. The Branwens sat in silence at the bar until Qrow realized they had to pay for this someway. At least their moral compasses were away and Qrow could steal a card of lien and be done with it. He eyed the unpopulated dance floor. This could get dicey. More people the better. He checked the bar instead. Ladies annoyed with a man flirting with them, and a guy all alone. Nah, someone keeping to themselves would be way of themselves. The flirt. Easiest target. He was big, he wouldn't notice a hand slip down his pocket. They could walk out, but being on the bar's bad side meant he couldn't come back.

"I'm sorry I hate you."

"You don't have to be sorry for it. You hate everything."

"I like you, though. It's only I hate you more than that. You've been nothing but great to me since we left, and I hate that I hate you."

"I like you too. Go talk to that big guy over there for me."

Raven was not reluctant to leave the conversation. She walked over to the man as she was told and exchanged pleasantries. As soon as the lanky boy behind the counter started looking at his scroll, Qrow planned this out. Start a bar fight with the guy. Imply he provoked it. During the fight, steal his wallet. The bouncer will come to break up the fight and kick out the other guy. Fucking Branwens. Ruining a man's night out just so they could pay for drinks. Plan B: run out the door. Alright. Go.

"Don't you ever call my sister a whore!" Qrow socked the flirter. At least the guy had aura. It would have felt wrong to fist fight a baby. He stuttered angrily and readied his hands, but Raven uppercut him. In the confusion of the fight not being fair, the big guy didn't notice Qrow steal his wallet. And scroll. Oops, didn't want that. He put that back.

The guy swung a right hook wide. Instinctive. This guy wasn't a trained fighter. That was good to know. Qrow bobbed underneath it and planted a right cross into his sternum.

"Woah, woah, woah!" The lanky bartender said to mediate. Didn't work. He called in the bouncer.

A big guy thinks he wants to get in close to a more agile fighter if he's stupid. In reality, reach is what would have won him the fight. He snatched a beer from the ladies he was flirting with previously and tried to pop it on Qrow's head. It didn't work. The Branwen double team beat him in both brains and brawn, and the bouncer separated the fight for his sake.

"Kick him out!" The annoyed ladies cheered.

Mission success. The bouncer saw the man out, yelling "Quit getting drunk, Port! We need you to fight, not flirt!" Oops. It wasn't Petey, at least. The man tried to fight in his defense, but to no avail. Vale's club scene was suspicious if these ladies were so willing to lie on his behalf, but ridding a pest in exchange for some pocket cash was a fair trade.

Qrow felt the wallet. Ooh, it was padded with lien. What did this guy do for a living? He took out enough to pay for the drinks and dropped them on the counter in faux anger as an excuse to leave.

"Nice work there. Quick on your feet. Fastest bar fight I've ever seen."

"Felt bad for outnumbering him but that guy was a bastard."

"Well known bastard, too. Wolfgang Port. He didn't lay a hand on you. On either of you." Oh shit. That wasn't good.

"Well known for being a bastard?"

"No, for fighting."

"For losing?" Raven asked.

"He sucked," Qrow confirmed.

"Huh. Well, if you two ever need a job, come ask me. If I'm not working the bar, ask whoever's working for Junior. I'm always around."

"Sounds good, Junior. Keep the change."

The Branwens rushed out of The Web to avoid any more attention. The bouncer gave them a nod of pride on their way out. A job offer and a wallet more valuable than yesterday. That was something to sleep on. Qrow thought about drinking before Glynda's class. Might keep his grades high. Tai had a new opponent in class, and it was drunk Qrow. Master of the drunken fist and beating up bastards that he didn't know deserved it. A true gentleman. The twins slept that night a little happier.

* * *

A/N: _Thanks for the comment! I'm working on my prose. Syntax is fun to change up and I'm tweaking the small stuff such as how often I use the word "just." Praise be to the Hemingway editor. Regardless, thanks for keeping up with the fic! I'd appreciate if you folks would post another sentence you liked. Execution and plotting are both priorities._

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	12. Chapter 12: Creeping

Chapter 12: Creeping

* * *

"Oh no, oh no, this is so stressful."

"It'll be fine. We'll be fine." Tai put his hand on Summer's shoulder with a goofy smile. The turbulence of the Bullhead rocked Team STRQ and Bartholomew, exaggerating the strength of Qrow's minor hangover. In the excitement of the previous night, he forgot to drink enough water to keep him from feeling like an animated trash can. He's getting at Raven. Why did Tai get to touch her shoulder? That was Qrow's job. Whatever, he didn't feel well right now. His meek mind didn't have the energy to think about the petty; they were taking on a mission.

Mission over feelings, right? What a hard question. Qrow didn't think he'd ever have an answer.

"Right, here's our stop! Bart, take care of the students! You have the dangerous one after all. Team CRSS, we're off!" Professor Peach lead her team of protectors off the Bullhead. Off meaning out, out meaning they were jumping to a subway tunnel midair. It was a shallow drop, but a drop it was. Shiro jumped, Heather jumped, Gretchen stayed back a bit to smile at Qrow, Carmen pushed her, what a fun time. While they plummeted down, a plain voice told Qrow to "Stay safe!" Tai would assume she meant that for all of them, but Qrow knew better.

"She calls you Bart, huh?"

"Yes, we are colleagues and peers and have known each other for years so there's no good reason to keep a professional distance between us two. I'm not sure what you're implying but young adults such as yourself are better suited to learning rather than matchmaking."

"I think he knows what you were implying," Qrow stage-whispered to Tai.

The group rode the Bullhead further towards Mountain Glenn. How expensive were these things? There was no way Beacon could afford wasting frivolous money on dust for Bullheads when they could have walked the entire way. Either they had money to spare or Ozpin's budget balancing could use some work. Imagine the dust needed to keep something this big carrying people safe and afloat and enough to go back and forth and stay for them to return and goddamn there's so much. How did these things work? When did they come about? The world of Vale was interesting, more so than the farming life of Shion and the Tribe stealing from their coffers. The people rattled his expectations. Beacon was a place of white and marble, lien wasted on the aesthetics of an old timey cathedral. The city of Vale had airbuses and highways. Lavishness and luxury reeked behind every brick and underneath every pane of glass. Keeping an aesthetic was senseless when it cost more than the coffee. Speaking of which, Bartholomew's thermos wafted his way. His mind's wandering fixated on the thermos and he stared at it. Qrow wiped away some drool.

Mountain Glenn was in the near distance when the Bullhead landed in a clearing. A train of Goliaths walked a well-worn path outside the city.

"Look! We learned about them in Grimm Studies! We can take them out using their weak point on their bellies!"

"Mister Xiao Long, you also learned that Goliaths are non-hostile."

"But Grimm! We need to do Remnant a favor!"

"Huntsmen are supposed to do what they're told, Tai. Sometimes, you have to prioritize the objective, right?" Summer smiled at Qrow. Wasn't that weeks ago? And she took it to heart too. Her heart was cute. The smile shed light on parts of Qrow's heart he didn't know he had, the ends of her mouth curving up in genuine joy to pass on knowledge that wasn't hers and to credit him and oh wow was Summer adorable. What a dork. Wait, did Qrow use the word dork? He might be dying. He resolved to get his brain checked the second he got back to Beacon.

The Bullhead landed and Bartholomew lead Team STRQ off. They joined in a circle with the pilot.

"A small change of plans, Bart."

"Yes?"

"There's more Grimm than the report suggested."

"Indeed."

"I'll need to take a kid for protection. There's some important stuff here."

Bartholomew held silent for a second to recollect his thoughts, but Raven interjected. "I'll do it." She edged out of the circle and back into Bullhead, taking a seat and placing her sword on the floor. It was fast. That eager to get away from her team, or something was bubbling underneath the surface of her pale skin to grab the attention of superiors and flex.

"Are you sure, Raven? We can-"

"My Semblance. If you need help, tell me."

"Ohhhhhhhhh!" Summer glibly said. She must have been relieved that there was some rhyme and reason behind the decision to stay behind rather than the emotional knee-jerk of not wanting to travel with the team. How naive Summer. It was both. Qrow shook his head and gave Raven a sneer.

"Can I stay back too?" Tai asked.

"He only needs one person," Summer responded.

"I know, but…"

"Ozpin asks for us to do a special mission and all you can think about are your hormones, Tai. Tsk, tsk, tsk. What happened to being the greatest?" Qrow asked. Bartholomew and Summer wanted to punish him for the faux pas but they knew he was right to shut Tai down. Instead, they paid lip service to being nice for Tai's sake and wore the facade of mean expressions.

"Hey, that's none of your… A good point. Damn it." Tai frowned. Bartholomew took the awkward silence away from him.

"The first order of business is to secure a perimeter around the Bullhead. It's our ticket out of here and let's keep it safe. Summer and Qrow, you two are speedy and avoid combat easily. Go scout out and clear any Grimm you see two hundred yards around us. Taiyang, you are the muscle and I am the brains; our task is to peruse the tunnel Amber made for herself to see if it's fit to explore. Our main mission is to extract information from this place but it's important we do it in a safe and non-destructive manner to ensure we can come back and do it again. Keep direct communication with your teammates and we will reconvene as soon as Summer and Qrow are done. Go go, chop chop, we have our jobs."

* * *

"Merlot, you charlatan! We were to be alone! Now there's more pests!"

"They must be more of Ozpin's agents."

"They're children."

"Don't act with some moral high ground, Atlesian. At least Vale doesn't place military generals at the top of academies."

"You ignoramus, morals are nowhere near the top of my priorities. Success is, and the fact that these Valean students are what I'm up against is what assures my victory. The decryption will take another two days at its maximum, and if I stay hidden, we can leave this rotten place for the dead."

"No, Watts! You imbecile! You don't dare leave my poor babies in that subway or so help me, I will turn you into one of their ranks!"

"These are apex predators. If the children cull them, how is it my fault?"

"Perfection cannot be rushed!"

"Then why are you rushing me?" Arthur said. Merlot didn't respond yet and Watts considered chucking the scroll against the wall of the train car he resided in. He would have much rather chucked it against Merlot's face. This auxiliary generator was loud and the acoustics of the tunnel they were in betrayed any notion of silence. The noise of the generator would be distinctly recognizable. . They had hidden from Amber well, but the perpetrators wouldn't expect another person to be here after Amber. The easiest way to avoid all of this would be to shut off the power and hide from these fools as well, but to deign additional orders to these brainless brutes might kill him. Wait.

"Merlot, would you like to test your monstrosities?"

"They aren't ready yet!"

"Science requires experimentation. Test their mettle against the children."

"The Creeps instinctually only chase prey with high aura."

"Bartholomew Oobleck leads them."

"The historian? I doubt he has more aura than the students."

"He graduated from Beacon. They still attend. I wish your brain was the size of your ego; perhaps we could get things done."

"I care not. Do not get caught."

"Historians take their time with missions, Merlot. I have, at the very least, a whole day until they come into the tunnel. They will use caution. I'll turn it off tomorrow."

"Then release the Creeps, Watts. Do not speak to me until your cloning of the Valean systems is over. We need to understand Ozpin." The scroll closed and Merlot's unsightly receding hairline left Arthur's mind. After all the work it took to reign the Grimm back into their cages, he had to release them. The agents of Ozpin would regret this. He would kill them.

* * *

The sun waned while Summer and Qrow waited for Bartholomew to return with Tai in tow. They said they wouldn't be long, so the two sat next to each other in the Bullhead while Raven stretched her legs. Even with two other people in earshot, the world melted and Qrow's vision narrowed in on Summer. How did she keep her cloak so clean with the grasses and trees and the recon and wow she cared about how it looked and no she didn't she hated being looked at this was her normal dorky self and it was cute and she didn't try to make it cute, she was. She was.

"I'm sorry for being so useless," she sighed.

"Since when is fire support useless?"

"I know it's not but I feel like you pull more than your weight, you know?"

"I don't, if I'm honest."

"You win, you win, you win. You think, you do, you win. Raven thinks, you do, you win. You think, Raven does for you, you win. We're not Team STRQ. We're Team RQ. We're Team Branwen and friends. Tai and I were the top of Signal. We were the big fish at Patch. I don't know, it feels so weird to be the follower on a team I lead, and bleeeeeeh."

"I can stop. We can stop."

"No. No, no, no. I'm not going to hold you back from being great. I just want to be great too."

"That's the spirit. Your answer is be better than me."

"Huh?"

"Do what I do but better."

"Oh."

"Summer, it's not really fair for you to compare yourself to me. Raven and I have been through some shit. Obviously we're not from here, right?"

"Riiiight."

"And I appreciate you not asking us about it too much. You and Tai took us underneath your wings and taught us how to fly. We're not from Vale. We don't understand how it works here, not really. We don't have money, we don't have jobs, we don't have anything but Ozpin's good graces and our friends. My sister and I were floundering in the dark and improvising everything the past few weeks. You gave us something we didn't have in Mistral." Damn it, he said Mistral. She'd press the specifics. Well, she might have asked. Maybe.

"Qrow that's, uh. That's the most I've heard you say at once. Thank you."

"Yeah."

"What did you do in Mistral?"

"We were born in the Northern Wilds."

"Ooh! So swamps and stuff!"

"Yeah. No money to hire Huntsmen, so we killed the Grimm ourselves."

"Ohh! So while Tai and I got book smarts, you were out there killing Grimm so your family could eat and the town could live."

"Kinda, yeah."

"Wow. Qrow, that's amazing. You're already a Huntsman!"

"Yeah. So no feeling bad, okay?"

"I complimented you, you're supposed to say thanks," Summer giggled.

"Thanks," Qrow muttered.

She giggled again and it was adorable. Man, she wore everything she had on her sleeve. When she felt uncomfortable, she said it. When she felt inadequate, she said it. A lie never escaped Summer's mouth, and Qrow told her some by omission. It sucked to lie to her. Qrow wanted her to know everything about him, from the day he was born to how much he hated the Chief, but if he did that, Ozpin would know. And mystery is what kept the twins at Beacon. If he knew that the Chief's goal was sending twins with no money out into the world to get an education and return as warriors, they would be sent packing. Summer had the luxury of honesty. Her world and his were disjoint, only linked together by the shallow tips of Team STRQ. He wanted to pull her in, but it was a stupid idea. Qrow's heart bowed to his brain. Oh well. At least he had an outlet for these kinds of feelings, he'd plug in as soon as they got back to Beacon and he could invade Team CRSS's room.

Bartholomew and Tai returned, and the group went back to the Bullhead to go over the day's events and report them to each other. A couple of Grimm had come close to the Bullhead (Qrow assumed because of Raven's brooding) but she put them down easily. Summer and Qrow killed everything in sight aside from those, and Bartholomew and Tai created a larger hole into the subway system.

"I don't get how Amber got down there. She must have used some weird bomb or something, because the whole way down was scorched and smelled like a chimney."

"She has her ways, Mr. Xiao Long, I wouldn't be put off by that. However, it's dark down there and we could use your help again, Miss Rose and Qrow." Bartholomew had been relying on them an awful lot. This seemed more like a test than an actual mission, but that made sense. Nobody sent first-years on missions before the second month of school was even over. Something about Team STRQ was special in Ozpin's eyes and Qrow wanted to know what it was.

"Are we taking a peek down there?"

"Please. I may be a trained Huntsman but I am effectively armed with a baseball bat."

"Let's go, then."

Bartholomew led them to the tunnel Tai had excavated out of Amber's small entry point. It wasn't large enough for any normal Grimm to reach and it dropped down low. They tied a rope to a nearby tree and tossed the remaining bits down for Summer and Qrow to slide down. They waved goodbye and the two scouts delved into the wreckage of Mountain Glenn's subway system. With a pale flashlight in his mouth, Qrow's hands used a small amount of aura to escape the rope burns of dropping down this rope. They touched the floor. It was a long way up.

The two followed train tracks down towards Mountain Glenn. That's where the cars would be. Qrow took the lead but realized that was the opposite of what Summer wanted so he went behind her but she said she didn't want to hold him back so he took the lead and then didn't and settled with walking side by side with her. Damn women. Their footsteps were quiet, but when they heard the bated breath of Grimm, they hugged the walls. It was loud. Very loud breaths. The hint of some oscillation further down. Was something on? Maybe a subway car didn't die properly.

Hind legs lumbered around the tunnel. Quick paced. No matching front steps.

"Creeps," Qrow whispered.

The Creeps hadn't found the two yet. Packs of creeps were usually led by an alpha, as they weren't the finest predators. They ran fast but had to use their only escape as attacks. They could burrow in dirt, but they can't dig into concrete as fast. Their instinct would be aggression.

"Do we go back?" Summer asked.

"No, we need to find the subway cars. Follow that sound."

She pouted in the darkness.

"Can you tell me to follow the sound?"

"Qrow, we have to follow that sound."

"Yeah."

The two avoided the Grimm and tiptoed down the tunnel, further and further. They hit a collapsed wall. In the top corner of the tunnel was a scorched hole that Amber must have used to get through. They took it, one at a time. She went first. Her skirt was long. It didn't reveal anything. Why was that the first thing he thought? Oh no. She smelled nice, unlike the tunnel. Her hair was half up and half down, in a cute ponytail on top and before long they had passed through a second wall and Qrow couldn't think as clearly anymore.

"The sound!"

"Yeah?"

"It's close! Qrow, we're near the cars!" She shut off the light.

"I'm following you," he said. The skirt was long but when it pulled taut enough and her cloak was hiked up on something else, Qrow could barely make the outlines of her curves out on- wait, that was kinda disgusting. She was too cute to look at like this. But that's what made it so good. Wait. Stop. Tai is the one with hormone issues, not him. There's a job to do. Damn it.

They inched closer to the sound. A bright light inside a train car illuminated it and what was outside. A man smoking a cigar. He was thin. Not wiry, just thin. He probably didn't have much combat experience. A pencil mustache. And dressed…

"Those are Mantle colors, white and brown." Qrow gasped.

"Do you mean Atlas?"

"No, Mantle. Before the Great War, Mantle was much less militaristic and amped up their technology to help Mistral in their fight against Vale. They used to wear leather and stuff like that. I've seen those uniforms around the Wild before. They're so old. What the hell? He's too young to have been around for Mantle."

"I don't know what to get from this."

The man puffed out smoke and turned back to the edge of the car, where he sat with one leg over the other.

"Summer, what do we do?"

"Go back, right? We're scouting, not fighting."

"But we're not done scouting. We don't know what he's here for."

"Qrow, I don't know about this."

"I do. This could be bad."

The two crept down from the hole Amber blasted in the blockade and ventured towards the smoking man. Qrow kept one hand on Quill and was ready to fight if need be.

* * *

 _A/N: The next three chapters are going to be fast-paced, so brace yourselves for the upcoming pain train! Hehe, train. Hope you enjoyed today's update, I'll see you goons soon._

 _ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	13. Chapter 13: More Time, Please

Chapter 13: More Time, Please

* * *

The cigar burned an atrocious aroma that the Grimm ignored. The smell of rot, snuffing out life, the taste of death. The pencil mustache lazed on the bow of the train, burning up some of the only air they would get.

These tunnels were cursed. Tombs for brave men and women who were paid to settle outside of the city and start a new life and allow Vale to control more land south and take it back from Grimm. Mountain Glenn was a normal walled city, but without a coast to defend it from one side like Vale had, Grimm attacked at an alarming rate. It was strange; statistically speaking, Glenn had faced these attacks over six times what was expected. Aggravated Grimm, big Grimm, Grimm with skills Huntsmen had never seen or expected. Why would a Goliath attack a settlement? Questions without answers drove the settlers of Mountain Glenn into the subway that brought them there.

Mountain Glenn and her people had moved underground, where they thrived. In Bartholomew's library, Qrow couldn't find a record of a single subterranean civilization that made it past infancy, Glenn included. The population sealed themselves from the surface of Grimm, but the Grimm also had an underground population, and an explosion revealed the population to each other. Many settlers had unlocked their auras, but even if every man, woman, and child had auras, they could not stop the carnage the Grimm wreaked in the tunnels. The subway line was a direct route not only to Vale, but to other Valean settlements and an unfinished line to Vacuo. The Valean council with the joint consent of the Vacuoan ambassador decided to abandon the population for the sake of the many. The subway of Mountain Glenn became a tomb for the living with no documented survivors. In fact, history said that the subway was sealed and never breached since. Either Amber was the first, or historians fudged their books as much as the author of _Kitty Khan_ did. Why did the Khan have to attend high school if she went to Shade Academy? Some authors don't think their stories through.

Qrow didn't have the time to tell Summer. He didn't have time to tell her that the corpses of Valeans that the city failed, that Beacon failed, that Huntsmen couldn't protect, littered the sides of the subway, piled into subway trains, sat in janitor closets that would not be cleaned. History books don't explain how trains work, so Qrow didn't have the tightest grasp on terms, but what he would call the control center must be all bones. Fleshless bones Grimm picked clean, happy to feast on the fear of the children hiding underneath beds that they've never slept on before. If the children understood what morning was after not seeing the light of day for the past few years of their life, anyway.

Bulkhead doors separated compartments of the tunnel. Underground networks this big would be prone to explosions, and shutting two doors would starve a fire's air supply and save the rest of the subway system for further use. The bulkhead doors were never used for this purpose, though. Never lasted long enough. Instead, they were used to close off the Grimm infestation and leave them to their own devices. Some sections were too long, too big to trust the layers of defense the doors brought, so Vale bombed sections of the tunnel to use rubble to partition the Grimm out. Creating one singular horde of Grimm could lead to them weaponizing their numbers and busting into Vale. Vacuo was the least of their concerns; they were self sufficient.

Mountain Glenn was a failure. Qrow was not.

What were this man's motivations for being in Mountain Glenn? A den of destruction and Grimm didn't attract people with good intentions, and people with good intentions didn't wear the old colors of a country lost to history and replaced with a new one. He might be overreacting, and that army dress could be honorifics spelling no bad deeds incoming. Qrow's gut disagreed. This textbook villain smoked a cigar with Grimm creeping around and the hum of a generator being his only music. The Grimm avoided the light and kept across the tunnel, over a few tracks away.

"Stay up here and spot me. I'm going to talk to this guy."

"What? No! We're scouting! Not doing!"

"Film it, send it to Bartholomew. What if this guy leaves? Don't you remember what we did during Initiation? Team STRQ is amazing. We're amazing. We got this."

"Qrow, this is seriously bad. Seriously."

"I'm going down, get it all on video."

"Qrow! Oh no, oh no." She took her scroll out with a grimace.

Qrow descended the rubble with tactile precision, a head clear with looming anticipation. He dusted off his school uniform's shoulder, patted Quill for reassurance, and walked into the dim light the pencil mustache was enjoying his cigar in. Qrow kept his hands open. Any evidence of a predilection for violence could turn this interrogation sour.

It was nice to be in the position of power.

"Yo. What are you doing here?"

The pencil mustache stifled a gasp. He collected himself and ashed the cigar before asking Qrow a question back.

"You're far from home, little birdie. Go back to Ozpin while you can."

"What are you doing here?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"A Mantle military uniform in Sanus. I'm asking the questions."

"You don't know who you're speaking to." The pencil mustache rose from the edge of the train and his thin build stood tall over Qrow. It was menacing in the wrong way; there wasn't a good reason to stand up against a student. His outfit may say military but the man had seen no combat at all from his stance. Full legs, locked knees, right next to each other. This would be easy or it wouldn't be easy.

"I'm Qrow. And you?"

"Watts. Remember the name well, child. I want it Ozpin to say it in gasps."

"Kinky. What are you doing here?"

"I'm busy. I have no time for babysitting, nor for vagrant louts such as yourself."

Watts turned his back to Qrow and went back into the train, and Qrow tried to follow suit. As he approached the track, a resounding _click_ was pressed and the single light illuminating the section of the tunnel became a well-lit train. Behind his back, Qrow tried to signal Summer to stay out of the situation. He wanted to get as much out of this as possible. He stepped on the train. Big mistake.

Out the door flung a girl a few inches shorter than Qrow. She was cute. He almost exchanged pleasantries with her, but her eyes were uninterested. A pink bow over orange hair screamed that she was cute, but her eye was man-made. Different moving parts rotated and clicked into place as she shared eye contact with him before a horrid voice sounding like a frog getting caught in the airbus announced, "The PNY unit is now defending."

"Good girl."

Qrow grabbed Quill and pushed backwards. He tried to keep Summer at bay until the action started happening. At least she kept quiet. A robot disguised as a cute redhead with freckles! Mantle had outdone itself, he could use a PNY bot for himself. What was it planning on doing? Defending the train meant something on the train was worth violence for. He waited for her first move.

"Qrow, you will be a nice guinea pig."

"Yeah, she'll need some tests once I'm done with her."

"How churlish," Watts commented before typing into a console. "Not only for her, but for our friends in dark places. I'm sure they would appreciate fresh meat after the long years down here."

Out of PNY's back came an assortment of blades with a fat wire connecting all of them. It wasn't very subtle, those things were clearly attached to one another. Predicting them would be easy if he watched the movements of the wire as it moved from her back. He steeled himself for the first attack. It didn't come. The blades dispersed around her. They snuck around the train and past the tracks and across the tunnel to the shadows where red eyes snuck and tapped them. The Grimm turned, curious, before spotting Qrow.

"I'm shaking. Creeps, boarbatusks, robots, oh my."

"Twice the pride, double the fall."

"You don't know what I can do, Watts."

"Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer."

The Grimm began pacing over. One by one, a horseshoe of Grimm approached Qrow. He waited for their first move.

"Don't you have a train to catch?"

"Let her start, little boy. By the way, they're not creeps _or_ boarbatusks, they're creeps _and_ boarbatusks." That made more sense. Creeps didn't have facial horns. They had spines, but no horns. Qrow didn't have time to ponder genetic mashups of different Grimm or of him and redheads. He needed a plan. Almost surrounded, everything is on video, Qrow told the villain where he was, and he let him monologue without figuring out what his plan was. A net failure.

Summer was right, he was wrong. If he could leave and tell her that, that was the next challenge. What a mess he got himself into. Surrounded. Bad guy was getting away, demonic voiced robot with flying swords in a subway about to operate for the first time in centuries. Something here was happening and it wasn't a simple protect-the-historian mission. Plan A: Leave alive through the way they came. Plan B: Stall for reinforcements.

A creepatusk interrupted his thoughts and thrashed his way. More power didn't mean more brain cells so he avoided the attack, hearing it crash into the wall of rubble behind him. Summer had to be signaling the others to come, didn't she?

On Qrow's step away from the crashing Grimm, Quill reaped a genetic atrocity and aimed a shotgun at another. Now standing in the midst of Grimm, Qrow was surrounded, and tried to move towards the wall. Still no supporting fire. What was Summer doing? He shot Quill's shotgun and took another Grimm out of the fight. Without eyes in the back of his head, he had to stay on the move. Grimm weren't smart enough to plan ahead, all he had to do was keep moving and everything they did would miss.

A crash on the other side of the wall of rubble.

A gasp.

The Grimm around Qrow dispersed.

It happened so fast, Qrow couldn't tell what was happening at first. He pieced it together after watching the video. Summer was in the hole between walls, and spotted the Alpha on the other side. She went towards it. The Alpha went towards Qrow, and she unfolded Crimson Rose to take a potshot at it. It moved too fast, too quick. It was a behemoth of an Alpha. Three times larger than normal; it was bigger than a train car. It crashed into the wall. The rubble Summer was perched on began to move. She activated her Semblance and her scroll rolled away. As it tumbled down, it caught glimpses of her in her Semblance. As one rock came towards her, Summer Kindly Scattered into a flourish of rose petals. She reappeared on a rock lower, and another rock came. Again, Summer Kindly Scattered and moved down a rock. Again, towards the middle, down and to the left, up and to the right, down, down, there were rocks on both sides, Summer screamed.

The rose petals didn't avoid being crushed this time. Summer turned back into her human form pinned by a rock without the time to redirect her aura to sustain injuries for her, the rock was pinning her, she couldn't move, she was powerless and only if Qrow didn't take her on the stupid trip nothing would have happened.

Qrow watched it. It was only a few seconds. The Alpha plowed through the wall and stepped on some of its pack. Quill racked up a higher kill count as Qrow swung at the Grimm around him. They were still dinky, but the Alpha was going to destroy him too. Too meaning how it destroyed Summer. Why did he do that to her? She said don't. She said no, but Qrow did it anyway.

The subway train began moving. Gently rocking from side to side, the train was ready to go. Qrow lunged forwards, towards the train. He needed to interrogate Watts, he needed to know about these crossbred Grimm, he needed to know about the PNY bot. Qrow's right foot landed. His left foot was still behind him, with Summer. Summer pinned by a rock. Summer surrounded by Grimm. Summer stuck. Summer stuck under a rock because Qrow told her to stay there because she was there to support him even though she said don't go, Summer there because he told her to and Qrow's Semblance was a bad luck charm, Qrow told her to be there and now Summer was under a rock surrounded by Grimm.

Watts. Summer. Watts or Summer?

Qrow froze. The Alpha kicked him. His aura took it, unlike Summer's. Qrow went flying towards the near side of the tunnel. Watts or Summer? The pack began zeroing in on him. He looked at the train, and PNY was already back inside the door, where Watts was staring through the small square window. Watts or Summer? He looked at Summer, who was underneath a boulder, grinding at her aura, crushing her. Watts or Summer?

"What a failure! You had the choice of me or her, and you chose nothing. Hesitation killed the hidden support. 'You don't know what I can do, Watts!' What a failure." Watts cackled as the subway train ramped up in speed towards the other end of the tunnel. It wasn't going to go far, but it didn't need to go far. It would leave fast. It could do something fast. Qrow was jealous. The train would stop moving at the next bulkhead door or the next pile of rubble and he would escape the way he came in or go to the substation. From there, the goddamn pencil mustache would have whatever it wanted without Beacon intervention, and Qrow could have scouted instead of instigating a fight where Summer was pinned under a boulder.

"Qrow!" Summer whimpered.

Hesitation. The mockery stuck in his head like the boulder stuck to Summer. He picked himself back up and raised Quill to cull the meek little bastards that threatened Summer. The Alpha went for another charge. He maneuvered out of its way, and it cracked some of its plating against the wall. Summer was under the rock. What was Plan B? Boulder. Boulder crushing Summer. Best way to get rid of boulders? Explosions. Explosions? Dust. Dust! Dust shotgun. Qrow repositioned himself towards the wall of rubble. The Alpha began shaking its headache off, he had the time. He laid Quill on top of the boulder.

The shotgun used Dust shells. Explosive shells. The Dust was stuck to Quill, there was no time. He exposed the inside of the shotgun mechanisms and picked up Crimson Rose. It took a bit, Summer's baby was stuck. Qrow, point blank from the explosion, used a sniper rifle to shoot Dust. It wasn't the smartest idea, but if the smartest idea doomed Summer to another second of agony, it wasn't the right idea. Qrow's aura didn't appreciate the blast. Neither did his ears, but at least they were covered. He laid on the floor, drenched in sweat, and the Grimm swarmed above him. The Alpha could have laid a foot on him to end his miserable life. It didn't, though. They sniffed, they all sniffed Qrow, and Summer sniffed, but Summer sniffed because she was crying.

The pack of Grimm turned around and left, following the Alpha towards the black nothingness of the tunnel. This was the part of the video where Qrow couldn't handle watching anymore.

"I'm out of aura, Qrow. I'm out. I'm all out, Qrow. I'm gonna die. We're gonna die. I'm so sorry. I could have done better, Qrow, I could have. I'm so sorry. You trusted me. You trusted me to support you and now I killed us both, Qrow, I'm so sorry, all I had to do was do what you said."

"You're alive. I'm alive." Qrow chanted. "You're alive. I'm alive." Qrow's elbow boosted his upper body from the floor, giving him a better view at the back of the Grimm as they left the defenseless, no-aura, prime killing, ready to eat meal, students alone. Why, the back of Qrow's mind questioned, before being snuffed out by the reality of the situation.

"They're leaving, Summer. And so are we." No hesitation this time. Too little, too late. Why didn't he do so earlier? Qrow's abs couldn't handle bringing the rest of his weight up. He rolled over and pushed himself to a crouch then back to his feet. Summer's skin twitched with red energy, the aura she had dissipating into nothing. He grabbed her hand. She wasn't heavy but eating an explosion to the face was. His aura was intact, but in the red. He had enough to sling her over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered on his shoulder. She didn't have the acumen to think straight, so Qrow did it for her. With his right arm, he picked up her scroll and then Crimson Rose. He tried to fold it back into thirds. The joint that began the barrel of the sniper rifle jammed, preventing it from becoming the small profile he wanted. Summer on his shoulder and in his left hand and her scythe in his right, Qrow began to walk the long walk back to the rope he descended in from. The first hundred yards, Qrow's brain started working again. He recognized the hiss of fire, the grunts of battle further down in. He recognized the Grimm around him, ignoring his weakened state, padding in the dank and muggy air of the subway tunnel. The explosion didn't scare them much. Oh yes, the explosion. Qrow turned his face downwards to check his body. Nope, nothing but a battered aura and blackened clothes. Summer's cloak didn't have the same fortune. It was torn in a way that only being pinned by a boulder could tear it, it was burned and frayed only in a way eating a brunt of an explosion could destroy it. And it was all Qrow's fault. Had he agreed with Summer instead of waltzing into the sight lines of a pencil mustache in control of a vapid-minded robot redhead and could provoke all the Grimm in the area, Summer wouldn't be barely breathing on his blackened shoulder. He walked. He kept walking. He climbed up a wall of rubble. He fell a couple of times, but he got through. Rinsed, repeated. The time between the explosion and making it back to the team was 26 minutes, but Qrow's report pined it to be two hours alone with his thoughts and his burden.

The trip back to Beacon was a blur. Bartholomew and the other half of Team STRQ had to clear out the Grimm, because they were too loud to sneak past and the Grimm didn't ignore them. It was strange. Once their battle was over, the healthy students did their best to get Qrow and Summer out. Apparently when Tai tried to take Summer to hoist her on his shoulder, Qrow was belligerent and refused to give her up. Raven's maternal instincts kicked in and began lecturing Qrow on being safe before sweeping him up in her arms, making Raven the bottom totem of a pile of people until Tai took Summer, while Qrow started babbling about the events. Bartholomew did what he could to help Summer before getting her to a hospital while Raven tried to protect Qrow from himself.

* * *

White ceiling panels coupled with bright white lights was murder on the eyes. They greeted Qrow a good morning and he went to rub his eyes awake. He couldn't. They were pinned down. Not by a boulder or by anything that was going to kill him, but by two that could if they wanted to. Raven and her giant mane of hair was dead sleep on Qrow's chest and her arms reached out to his other shoulder as if to protect him from the elements. That half-sitting, half-laid out over him position was going to give her a backache. Gripping his right hand was Gretchen, asleep with a look of pain leaned back in her chair. She clasped his hand in both of hers like he was going to die.

Qrow didn't deserve this. Summer did.

"Rav. Rav. Raaaaaav." Qrow pet her hair, and her sleeping body snuggled up to his chest and complained that it didn't want to wake up. He wrapped his left arm around her and gave her a tight hug. He missed doing this. When was the last time the twins hugged each other? A two-way hug. Not a "I'm sleeping on the Kitty Khan Kycle" hug.

Maybe it wasn't the most recent, but he remembered on one of their childhood birthdays, Qrow was supposed to give a speech at the end of the long hall. He stood up on the table and faced his future tribesmen, the people he would be ruling in future years, staring back at him. It was terrifying. He felt his feet go cold. The speech was going to be a basic show of gratitude before typical flexing, but his vocal chords refused to budge. Raven hugged his leg and whispered "Hey, fuckers." He looked down at her, her eyes twinkling with admiration and warmth, transferring her vitality to his cold feet, unfreezing his voice. "Hey, fuckers!" Qrow delivered to his men. They laughed. So cute.

"Rav." She stirred, but only in resistance of waking up. He kissed the back of her head, getting lips full of her well-kept unkempt mane and let her sleep.

"That's adorable," Gretchen said.

"Oh, uh. No. Wait. Thanks." Gretchen laughed at his intonation, as if she caught him with his pants down.

"Nothing wrong with loving your sister. I love my brother the same way."

"Oh, you have a brother? What's he like?"

"What's Hazel like, huh? Well, he's overprotective. That's for sure. I remember trying to take my door out to Beacon, he wouldn't let me leave the house. He begged and pleaded me not to leave, that he didn't want me to get injured out in the field, that handing me to a Valean Headmaster would be sending me to my grave."

"It's great he cares. Hazel sounds like a good man."

"I used to think it was ridiculous." Her volume went low. "Now I get it. They almost brought you back in a box." She stroked his thumb with vicious caring and concern.

Qrow didn't know what to say so he didn't say anything.

"No dying." She kissed him on the cheek.

"No dying," Qrow agreed.

Raven tried batting Gretchen away after she heard the lips smacking, like a wyvern defending its bed of gold. Gretchen laughed and Raven pouted as she finally pulled herself off her brother and joined in on the lecturing.

"I'm glad you're okay," Raven said, searching her face with her hand to find drool. "But don't do dumb shit like that ever again. Your aura was in horrible shape. You've been in this room for two days to regenerate your aura to normal levels. The nurse did her best to replenish your aura to get you back into school. Tsune didn't even allow us in yesterday, you were screaming so loud."

"I was screaming? I don't remember yesterday."

"That might be a good thing," Gretchen nodded.

"Is Summer…"

"Yes. She's alive. Not well, but she's alive," Raven said.

"What happened?"

"The worst of it is both of her MCLs are torn. She'll be back with us in a month and a half. She's not ready to see anyone yet, Tsune said. She was trying to get you nursed back health to waste less time."

"We watched the video, Qrow. Amazing as always."

"What do you mean?"

"Taiyang found the scroll before anyone, and we tried watching it together. Since Oobleck got promoted to Head Researcher from his Assistant position, something's been getting to him. As soon as the good part started, he took the scroll away from us and said it might have confidential information that we're not allowed to see."

"Damn. There goes my normal school life. I know government secrets."

"What happened?" Raven asked.

"That's not a good idea," Gretchen said. "Let's get Oobleck."

"Fine," Raven said. "I love you, okay? Don't pull this stupid shit again and make me worry."

"You were so distant the past weeks and now you're not. Maybe I should get hospitalized more often."

"Shut up."

"I love you too, by the way."

Out came Raven's infamous smug giggle, resurfacing after a long hiatus. The two girls left the room to fetch his next set of interrogators, and all Qrow wanted was Summer and a cup of coffee. Wanting wasn't enough, though. Mind wasn't matter, good will didn't stop Summer from being crushed by boulder and Watts was right. What a failure. What a failure. What a failure. Hesitation. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. That day would torment his dreams for a long time. Scratch the coffee, Qrow needed some whiskey.

* * *

Qrow followed Bartholomew into Summer's room where Ozpin, Glynda, and Amber were seated and Tsune posed against the window. So many adults, so many years of experience, one failure, and his victim. Walking was fine, his aura was back up, but everything was sore.

"I watched the video, kid. Nice work in there. You spotted your spotter and carried her half a tunnel on your shoulder. You have some serious balls," Amber started.

"I consider this a net victory as well. No sustained injuries," Ozpin confirmed.

"We shouldn't risk children like this," Glynda argued.

"The kid did well. Watts only stuck around because he was a student, someone low, someone Watts figured he could fight. I came in there myself, powers blazing, and I didn't find a damn thing. He was watching the tunnels with whatever security he had set up. You can't send me to deal with Watts because he's smart. Watts only picks battles he can win. We need to tactically lose."

"If this was considered a loss then we should keep losing," Ozpin affirmed.

"Ozpin…" Glynda started.

"Qrow, Summer. Great job." Bart interrupted her. "When I took this mission with you two, I didn't imagine you would happen upon Watts. This changes everything. Both of you need to watch the video and fill in details we don't know. There might be pivotal details we are missing and only your minds can fill. A scroll's camera can only provide us so much. We can barely make out his facial features from how high she was recording."

"Summer, are you okay?" Qrow asked. He sat at her side and took her hand in his, a la Gretchen. She offered a smile undiluted from pain, a pure smile, despite both of her legs being raised in casts. What did he do to her?

"Ah yes, the students haven't seen each other in two days. Perhaps we should give them their alone time?"

"This is pivotal information, Bart! You want to keep it at bay so the children can feel better about themselves?" Glynda said.

"What happened to caring for the children?" Amber asked.

"Let's leave. After two days with me, they could deserve a break. We're overwhelming them. Only I'm allowed to do that." A couple of head shakes and nods followed Tsune out the door. Strange that the sadist was the only adult with a heart.

"I'm so sorry," the two said in unison.

"Summer, you said we shouldn't do it, I did it, and now your legs are busted. I am so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen, I'm so stupid," Qrow said. She used the hand he was gripping to make him wipe his own tears away. They were hot, wet, sticky tears, tears he didn't want to touch.

"No, it's not your fault. Not your fault at all. You thought I could cover you because of my Semblance, I'd be able to avoid being hit. That makes me the perfect spotter. But I couldn't because I reacted too late to the Alpha Grimm, and I didn't use my Semblance properly, and oh Qrow. You destroyed Quill for me. You thought so fast, you opened Quill and you destroyed that boulder. It was so smart of you. And then you, after eating an explosion to the face and fighting Grimm solo, picked me up and carried me home. I did nothing Qrow. Nothing at all. You got Watts on recording, made him bring out his robot, made him reveal something about his Grimm, you're a hero. You're a Huntsman, Qrow. You're a Huntsman."

"Look, I-"

"The mission is important. You did it. You did it all. You're amazing."

"Forgive me!" He yelled into her hand. His hands were wet. She pulled her hand out and booped him on the nose.

"No. 'Cause you did nothing wrong."

"I'll visit every day, I'll bring you my notes, your work, everything. I am so sorry."

"Wroooong answer! Oobleck is doing that."

"I'll do my work right here, on this stupid hospital desk, and I'll bring you games and real food."

"No, don't! Then what do I do for you?"

"Can't stop me."

"Okay how about… I am so sorry that you can have Crimson Rose. My poor baby is all grown up and you need a new Quill."

"What? No."

"And you'll help me make a new baby when I get better! I already have so many schematics!"

"I'll help you, but-"

"Where the sniper meets the barrel, cut off the grey metal. Tai can help you. Bam! Now she's a shotgun instead of a sniper! Perfect! You come in with food and games and I'll give you my baby! It's perfect! Problem solved!"

"Problem solved," Qrow repeated. Summer forced him to wipe his own tears away, and they sat together in silence while they still could.

* * *

 _A/N: I was having a real shit week and then I read our newest reviews. That was hilarious. I spent a few minutes laughing, and now "consider my nut busted" is an inside joke within my group of friends. It's a heavy chapter this week, a much higher word count than average. Hope it didn't drag. See you in two weeks!_

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	14. Chapter 14: Clapped, not Clipped

Chapter 14: Clapped, not Clipped

* * *

"May I?" Ozpin peeked through the door.

Summer tried smiling to say a yes. It didn't work. Qrow did it for her, but he didn't cock his head towards the door. Why should he? He knew what Ozpin looked like, the smarmy green pillar of power that walked with a casual step. Summer's pain, that was real, that was his, that was his fault. Sweet life had been extracted from her like dust from a mine, invaders taking beauty from a natural source and twisting it.

"We have a lot to talk about. They will stay outside."

"Okay."

"My first order of business is an apology. I had sent Amber out to clear out any extra Grimm and to parse over the area to see if anything strange was happening. She didn't find anything. Her nonchalance approach to reconnaissance left you two with injuries, and that's not an event to take lightly. I'll inform both of your parents myself with a formal apology, and I suspect your teachers will give you some leniency in the upcoming weeks."

"I'll be fine. My parents were Huntsmen too. They'll be proud!"

"And you, Qrow? I don't have any information on your family."

"My mom is distant. You'd be better off calling Raven."

"Oh. A shame, she has clearly done a well job raising you. Not only are you well-adjusted, but you have a knack for success."

"You _can't_ call it success."

"Why can't I? You don't understand the gravity of today."

"Ozpin! That man, Watts. He's a Mantlesian loyalist. He has to be. Not only does he have control over a murdering android, he had some control over the Grimm. Those Creeps watched until the PNY Bot pissed them off and they didn't even go after the bot. They went after me. Ozpin. I could have got him. I could have chased him, I could have gotten anything besides some dumb video that doesn't tell us anything about his motives."

"You used that opportunity to save Summer. That's a success."

"I didn't! I didn't! Couldn't you hear what he said? I didn't save Summer! I stood there like an idiot, asking myself 'Watts or Summer?', and I stood there until I got my head bashed in. The only reason why we both didn't die is because the Grimm didn't want to come after us anymore. That's not success, that's luck, that's horrid, I almost killed her!"

"Don't act like it's your fault, Qrow! It's mine. I could have covered you better, I could have shot him from up there, I could have helped on the approach! There were so many chances I could have took, and instead I failed with my Semblance and took a boulder to the face. You can't blame yourself for my problems!"

Ozpin listened, curiosity lifting an eyebrow.

"It could have gone worse. You could have died. You almost died. Had those Grimm wanted to run me down, I wouldn't have been able to get that rock off of you, and you would have died. That move? With Quill? That almost killed you too! I had so many options to not put you in danger, and I chose the only one that would hurt you. I'm so sorry, Summer."

"I could have done anything different! I could have avoided getting hit, I could have taken a shot at Watts, I could have snuck past, I should have been the one to approach! My Semblance!"

"The two of you have said 'could' fourteen times."

Summer and Qrow stopped bantering to look at each other. Pain gripped her gaze and it stole her innocence that she used to thank Qrow times over in the past few weeks. It was layered. Gratitude rooted it but guilt piled atop and anger joined the layers but sadness iced the cake and there was not a single word the world offered that can undo the damage to her knees or re-embroider her cloak and turn it back to the stark white it once was. Mountain Glenn had left a dark splotch in the patchwork, and the torn scar in her clothes hanging off the rack in the corner reminded Qrow that he was a failure. It laughed at him, the hem of the scar forming a mouth to open and giggle, like Raven's giggle but with a gusto of sadism, a genuine enjoyment of the torment of destroying a person so beautiful, chancing her to death.

"Why are you two obsessed with 'could?'"

They didn't respond.

"I prefer 'did' and 'will.'"

"Sorry, Headmaster," Summer said.

"Let's start with what you did and I'll tell you what you will do."

Qrow started the story with where it began instead of jumping headfirst into his cage of torment. How they secured a perimeter and Raven stayed back to defend the Bullhead from any Grimm coming to threaten their ride, how Oobleck and Tai split up to help the entry point, how the agile quicksters were sent in for scouting and didn't scout. They approached the noise that Ozpin explained was probably a generator; the Dust used to power trains wouldn't be enough to keep a train alive for that long. How they schemed to approach him; Ozpin explained that was a good idea. Watts avoided Amber's detection, he would easily see Tai and Oobleck stomping around. Perhaps he already did but determined the job at hand was worth the risk. The clothes, the conversation, everything. How they escaped.

Summer let Qrow do the talking, which was lucky on his part. He skimmed over the beginning, where Qrow and Summer watched over Watts from the hole in the rubble. In hindsight, it was impossible to justify approaching a man with many tools in his arsenal as two first-year Beacon students. Undeniably stupid, and such a mistake would put him at risk in Ozpin's good graces. He didn't want that fallout. So he avoided the whole truth, and settled for 99%. More omission.

"The Grimm didn't approach you once your aura was in the red."

"Yes."

"You two students have been forced a mantle I did not wish for you to carry. Summer. Qrow. You know secrets about intercontinental politics that other governments would silence you for."

"Oh no," Summer gulped.

"Qrow doubly so, as the first words out of his mouth was his name. You've added yourself to a Mantlesian hitlist. Watts called you a guinea pig, remember?"

"Yes," Qrow tried to cool down.

"That implies the PNY Bot is relatively new and hasn't been tested in the ways Atlas does before sending out their new technology. She is a Mantlesian secret. A secret you said…"

"She'd need tests after I was done with her."

"My, Qrow. Keep your tastes to yourself."

"That's the one thing I was proud of."

"I have some additional context. Can I trust you two?" Ozpin asked.

"Yes," they nodded.

"This is a commitment. I want to protect you as you're still students, but don't let me patronize you; you two are on the far edge of the bell curve for your class. The Nevermore from Initiation had lived above that section of the forest for almost a decade now, garnering more power with every year a new class failed to kill it. Team STRQ has potential unmatched. And you two, in specific, have had a run-in with massive political enemies of Beacon and came out on top. I don't doubt your abilities, but this is a question of loyalty. The road ahead is hard. I need your full support."

"Yes," Summer affirmed quickly.

"I'm native to Mistral. I haven't told you anything about me. You had to pull my last name from out of me. Why do you trust me so much? Why?"

"What you lack in words you prove in action. I trust you, Qrow." Did Ozpin not use his last name because he didn't know it, or because he actually trusted him? Qrow wasn't on that level.

"Thank you." He paused.

"That being said, you two don't understand the gravity of what I'm asking. I am asking for loyalty and dedication. Once you choose this route, there isn't any going back. Trusting students with government secrets is risky because you haven't made your minds up about anything. You're still learning. If you commit, the only escape from duty is death."

"I was made to save," Summer affirmed.

"Oh fuck," Qrow said.

"It's okay to not have a response right now. Give it some thought the next few days. In the meanwhile, I'll give what little I can to a man at a crossroads. Walk what path you will, I am your Headmaster through and through. Summer, thank you for your credence. Once you're healed, we will talk with your parents and progress you further."

He'd follow Summer anywhere, he owed her that much. But what would happen when Vale realized they trusted a kid with an agenda to return to his country and seize half of it? He wanted to, but he was scared.

* * *

Ozpin began to explain why the Grimm didn't attack them in the reds, right where the Grimm wanted them. Mountain Glenn was home to Merlot Industries, a research institute with a large facility dedicated to furthering humankind by improving the understanding of artificial intelligence and genetics. As Atlas was the rising technology capital of the world, Merlot Industries surprised nobody with its close ties to both Atlesian and Valean politics. Mountain Glenn was the start of a new community, and it offered a valuable pool of knowledge in studying an unchanging index of Valean citizens. Dr. Merlot was ambitious, too ambitious, and asked both Vale and Atlas for explicit permission to conduct experiments on Grimm. Ozpin denied him. Soon after, Mountain Glenn began attracting Grimm; there is no clear evidence as to the reason why, and most historians assumed the flood of Grimm attacks was because of the public outrage of exposing the civilians to Grimm. Ironic. Eventually they were overrun.

Only recently, Amber had discovered genetically modified Grimm. They were bigger, more powerful, crossed with boarbatusks. The contention between the two species might have confused the beasts, as boarbatusks tend to charge for the highest aura targets in their line of sight. Ozpin theorized that perhaps the modified Grimm were botched experiments instead of full-fledged creations, and their instinct was to only pursue targets with large amounts of aura.

"That doesn't explain Watts's role here."

"Atlas denied Merlot. Perhaps Mantle didn't."

"Who would do such a thing? Experiment on Grimm? There's no purpose," Summer asked.

"I don't know, Summer. It sounds like he wants to harness Grimm. Controlling them would make Remnant much safer. If every Grimm didn't chase after people with low aura, than the no-aura civilians could live peaceful lives," Qrow surmised.

"I hope that was his intention, but I doubt it. We don't know much for Merlot's motives, but the location of Mountain Glenn being tied to half boarbatusk-half creeps alongside genetic testing on Grimm that I denied is no coincidence. Merlot must be behind that charade, and Watts is an extension of this plan. In what way, I don't know." Ozpin told them everything. Every facet, every detail. Or did he? Was he leaving stuff out? No, Ozpin was a chess player. He moved the pawns, moved the rook, but wouldn't explain that the queen was to creep out diagonally. This wasn't everything. This might not have been a pint of the handle. Working with this man was a headache. Qrow should have stayed in Haven.

Then again, was Qrow any better? Omitting where he came from, omitting Mother and her bloodthirsty quest to rule the Animan wild, omitting the simple fact that he didn't have to approach Watts up there. Qrow walked in, head high, head too high, with double the pride and overconfidence sweeping him off his feet and almost putting an end to the one green person in the world of gray. Qrow deserved the ambiguity, deserved the silence, deserved the omission because he couldn't bring himself to do the same. He's a liar and he's a liar.

"I expect to send you out again soon, Qrow. Keep well at school. The Vytal Festival is this year and I expect to clean Headmaster Lionheart's house with Team STRQ."

"First his bike, now his trophy."

"I will have to file for your amnesty if you're going to glibly gab in Mistral."

"What?" Summer asked.

"I stole Haven's Headmasters scroll and motorcycle and binge watched everything in his _Kitty Khan Chronicles_ queue while I tried to wipe his phone. Ozpin, did you know Leo's favorite episode is 'Kitty Khan Catches a Cold?'"

"What?" Summer repeated.

"I'll do my best to forget that. Qrow, come with me if you would. You have an entourage waiting outside." Ozpin made his way through the door but didn't stop to hold it open. Qrow would have to open the door and walk out himself, nobody was going to make him do it. Ozpin. Summer. Ozpin or Summer? He guess he chose Summer, 'cause he didn't move from holding her hand. No, that was a horrid idea, he let go of her and walked to the door. He stood on the inside of the room, waiting for the door to open by itself, waiting for something to push him, waiting for Summer to call back to him, waiting for a sign in life that said Ozpin was more important than Summer because he knew that was the correct decision, but he wanted Summer to be the right one. He stood, and stood, and stood. Nobody replied. The world waited for Qrow, and he kept operations on standstill so he could stare at a wooden door. Outside, feet shuffled towards the exit. Behind him, Summer began to snore lightly. He waited too long for both of them. Damn it, damn it all.

* * *

The plain girl sat on the edge of Raven's bed, playing with Tai from afar. Raven tried her best not to remember the title of the game, but the main tune forced itself into her head and burrowed the name "Ultimate Ninja 4" into her long-term memory where it had no place to stay. She tried evicting it, but it didn't work. On her side of the bed, Raven was copying Gretchen's answers on the Grimm Studies homework. The plain girl wasn't bad, but treachery lurked at her core. The unbound song of love tingled Raven's ears and spurred her far away. A good girl, she was a good girl in love with Raven's twin brother, a boy not made for love. Too many things to fix before he could fix other people. Perhaps that's why Gretchen was so attentive. She liked piecing together people. Absolute treachery was at the core of selflessness of this caliber.

"Nobody plays Athena. Mad respect to you," Tai said.

"I like her design," Gretchen explained.

"Qrow plays Hestia. Weirdo."

"She's small and fragile. That's not what I expected."

"Home's where Hestia is. But home doesn't kick ass."

Gretchen didn't have much of a response, so she laughed. There wasn't animosity floating in the room, but a sense of perpetual waiting, a Goliath shimmying in the corner that the three ignored. Summer was out of commission for the next few weeks, Qrow was sulking, and Team STRQ was excused from a week of school for 'team building purposes.' What team was being built with Tai and Raven sitting in the dorm room with a member from CRSS? She was there for one reason. And he opened the door.

"Anyone hungry?" A dullness asked. Qrow looked like shit.

"How did it go? Are you okay?" Gretchen's controller bopped to the floor with a yelp from Tai. Those were expensive, if he remembered correctly. Raven didn't trust him with lien, though. He was liable to spend his whole wallet in a cafe because he could ask his parents for more. Or Summer's parents for more. They were oddly close.

"Want to get dinner?" Qrow asked Gretchen.

"Please," she said into his shoulder. She was taller than him. Raven's feet slid off the bed sheet and onto the floor, because she wanted to save Qrow from the treachery about to occur tonight. He kept condoms in this room.

"I'll see you two later. Thanks for everything." Qrow waved to them, his hand employing the speed of an old man. If Gretchen did not walk normally tomorrow, Raven contemplated attending Glynda's class with the sole purpose of adding to the injury. Raven didn't want to imagine them, but she did, and she was walking towards the door by the time the two left.

"Let him go. He's his own wingman."

"Wings can be clipped plain."

* * *

"You saved Summer. You're a hero," Gretchen said.

"That's nice of you to say," Qrow responded.

"And you sacrificed your own weapon for her."

"Quill can be replaced. Summer can't."

"You always fight for your friends. That's commendable. Even during Initiation, you helped Carmen and me and played it off like you didn't want the recognition for it. You're a huge softie."

"A couple of lies there. Especially the last one."

Gretchen giggled. He liked Raven's more. And Summer's. Summer's laugh could probably fix injuries and replenish aura faster than anything the school nurse could put out. That woman was straight out of a Kitty Khan episode, with those fox ears and constant sultry tone. Why was he doing this to Gretchen, really? The poor girl deserved better, deserved someone who was dedicated to her and reciprocated her love.

"You're not picking at your food," she said.

"I plan on eating something else after this," he winked. This wasn't a two-way street, as much as he wanted it to be. The Valean highway reaching out over the ocean flowed into him, Gretchen's traffic delivering packages of love and affection and drenched him in positivity. In return, Qrow sent a single messenger who wasn't enthusiastic about traversing dirt roads and running in the summer heat.

"I have a crush on you, Qrow." Oh, she didn't have to say that. She whispered it, like it was a secret, like her eyes never leaving him didn't explain it, like her waiting in his dorm room for hours didn't spell it out. She was a complete dork, or this was her first go at things. Both made him feel horrible for what he was about to do.

Qrow stood up, half hunched, and grabbed Gretchen's collar. In an ultimate power move, he kissed her in the middle of the dining hall which would trumpet the rumor of a relationship around the school. Her inexperience would tell her that this public proclamation was agreeing to the crush, but it wasn't. He felt preemptively sorry for the what he was going to lead this into. When he closed his eyes, he dreamed he was pulling the hem of a white cloak hiding red hair. When he grabbed her hand, he recalled the warmth of the season. A green season where Qrow's droll life dribbled gray everywhere he walked and painted Summer's white into ripped scars and torn ligaments and suspended legs. He almost murdered Summer, and even if he did have a chance with her, a piano would fall on her face when they'd kiss, his Semblance would do everything in its power to stop him and Summer from being happy. Because he didn't deserve it.

But Gretchen, wearing a mask of Summer when he closed his eyes? He could work with that. That's as much as he'd get.

Outside his dorm room, he pinned Gretchen against the wall and pretended she was Summer. It was difficult; Gretchen was taller than him. She was also way too goddamn noisy. People were sleeping. Tai, the sly dog who was definitely stirred from Gretchen's volume, slipped a condom underneath the door, and Qrow escorted tonight's playdate to a studying room in the library. The only person working the building was a student watching a show on their scroll, their job being to check any students out in the middle of the night to the morning and press a big red alert button when things got hairy. Things were going to get hairy in a study room, and Qrow'd be pressing some big red buttons. But he wished they were draped in white. So he pretended they were.

"I want you," Gretchen whispered.

"I want you, now," Qrow lied.

He drew the blinds, put a chair underneath the doorknob, and let his mind wander while the two fogged up the windows. Gretchen had big hands. Summer's hand was so small but it told lengths of a story Qrow wanted to read, wanted to delve into, wanted to be a part of, wanted to write. Gretchen was a blip on a page in Qrow's appendix, her name sitting next to the number 24. Qrow wished Summer was number 24, he'd graduate her to number 1, she didn't deserve 24. He didn't deserve Summer, after the past few days. In the same vein, Gretchen didn't deserve the mental beating if she discovered the truth. Why was he here? As a thank you to how nice she was? Maybe he should have painted Summer's face on a paper bag and asked her to wear it. With the enamour locked in her eyes, Gretchen would have agreed to that. Qrow would put money on it. Whiskey would be nice right now.

"You're so good!" She cried.

"You are too." He didn't know if that was true; he wasn't paying attention.

What she didn't know won't hurt her. Gretchen had a good time making love because she assumed Qrow was doing the same. The truth is a funny thing, isn't it?

* * *

 _A/N: Poor Gretchen. :( See you guys soon._

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	15. Chapter 15: Bet

Chapter 15: Bet

* * *

"See, I told you so. The boy has spent too much time with the Head Researcher of Valean History for me to not have an inkling of an understanding of his taste in women! Nothing personal, but I know him more personally," Bartholomew said.

"Have you seen the way the kid looks at Oz? And shut up, that promotion means nothing. You were already doing Peach's work for her," Amber responded.

"Either way, I have won the bet and you owe me a thousand lien. Somebody didn't talk to Port; on night zero, Qrow spent the night outside of the ballroom, presumably to elope with a girl he met that day. Perhaps it was Gretchen." Peter always assumed the best out of everyone, which was a weird mindset to share in education. He would make a strange professor, but a fun one at the least.

"Shut up, old man. You were banking on him and Summer." Calling Bartholomew old? Then what was Ozpin? Amber's head was too hot for her own good.

"To be quite fair to my assumptions, the two have been paired in almost every situation, and it was only time till the young innocent fell for the big bad from another land. He found another carrion to pick clean, good for her."

"Disgusting metaphor, you disgusting man. And I still think he's going to fuck the blond guy."

"Don't project your immodest fantasies on my soon-to-be lab assistant, you're going to scare him away and no student will ever be involved in history again. At least I can keep my wing clean; I've never seen you in your office and yet it's as if a tornado blew through."

"Oz, what do you think?" Amber asked.

"I think this conversation is proof we need to vet the boy out further. Someone so young typically wears this on their sleeve. He is a strange one. After seeing his reaction with Summer, I assumed he was in love." The way his eyes refused to move along from her, how he held her hand, there was a budding romance characterized by youth in his eyes and yet the librarian reported that her student reported seeing Gretchen and him together and a used condom in the wastebasket. Disputing the fact the two had used a study room for anatomy was impossible, and it begged the question: what was going on in Qrow's mind? Was Gretchen a potential avenue to control him? Why her and not Summer, who he physically pined for? This situation was confusing.

Glynda entered the room, tea in hand. She looked at Amber with a somber smile and turned her head the other way, hiding the malice and shooting it towards the wall. He understood her plight; Amber usually wasn't allowed on school grounds save for the tower and its catacombs, for good reason. How was he going to break the news to her in a way that didn't restrict the flow of coffee in through the school? He had ordered ten times the amount of beans and he didn't want to waste a single drop. A distinct silence enveloped the room from the disheveled atmosphere Glynda's undone makeup and hastily strewn bag and crop emanated. Amber broke the silence.

"Morning, witch. You look like shit."

"How pleasant. Why are you here?"

"She will be assisting your class today. We will be pushing the boy and the Plan B maiden to their limits, and publicly shaming them with Amber is a good first step. Please introduce her as a normal Huntress."

"What a good continuation to a great morning," Glynda seethed.

"So, buddy!" Amber put her arm around Glynda's shoulders and hatched up a smug look to jeer over at Bartholomew. "Bart and I had a bet on which team the kid bats for. What's your opinion?"

"He wore a skirt to my class and ensured Gretchen caught a shot. I'd wager he is pining for her."

"I was right in the wrong way," Bartholomew nodded.

"Oh boy, Glynda, my pal, do I have a story for you!"

* * *

Tai spent an hour telling Raven how much a wingman he was that they didn't catch enough sleep. Raven rubbed her eyes and took the shower first. Qrow's uniform was hanging on the towel rack; he showered while the rest of them were asleep, she supposed. Disgusting. At least it washed the smell of the plain girl out of the room, because attempting to sleep with a post-coitus bog of stench clouding overhead was pointless.

The cold water woke her up and she began the long process of washing her hair. In the Tribe, oily hair was fine. Vale didn't appreciate it, though. Summer spent a day brushing the mane and rubbing shampoo into it to show her how it felt. It burnt. She missed the small amount of soap they could steal from Shion. Someone stole a few bars from Shiishii. Those were tame soaps, this was on a new level of a pain. A pain of peace and silence. This was a good problem to have.

As soon as she was done, she stepped out. It took ten minutes. What a waste of water. The Chief would beat her over the head for using up precious drinking water for the sake of her hair. Raven didn't mind. She looked good.

While she dried off, the sound of Tai waking up ruined her morning.

"Bro! How was it? Did you get it in? Wake up! I need to know!"

"Five more minutes."

"Dude. I wingmanned for you so hard. You owe me details."

"I'm asleep."

"Asleeping with Gretchen."

"Fuck off."

"Fucking off with Gretchen."

"Go away."

"You should be more proud of this, man. The second month of school isn't even up and you've nailed someone. We gotta level you up. Try Carmen next. Oh? Wait. What about Heather? I'm telling Dion as soon as I can, this year is going to be so fun."

"Shut up, Tai," Raven said through the door.

"Yes ma'am."

"Is he telling the truth?" Raven asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm surprised." Raven looked to the empty bed. She wasn't blind. Summer was such a new force in his life and he dedicated days to her, his eyes moved slower when she was around.

"I am too," he said. Soft. What happened?

"Tai, shower. We need to go to class."

"Yes ma'am." Tai walked into the shower with a martial cadence and shared a glance with Qrow before sniffing the bathroom air. He then gobbled up the air he sniffed, making a strange smack with his lips that would have scared every woman on the face of the planet away from him. Raven laughed. How ridiculous and disgusting.

"Do you smell that?"

"If you like her shampoo so much, use it."

"Oh, I will."

"That's ominous," Raven said.

"Shampoo bottles were made to exit, not enter."

"It could use some protein."

"You're vile and rancid and dirty," Raven laughed.

Taiyang took long showers, but she accounted for that. Qrow napped in his uniform while Raven fiddled with her scroll's news app. Mistral had not caught on fire and Vale seemed fine. The mission in the subways wasn't public, and only people who valued information knew about it. Something was rotten in Team STRQ, and she could smell the cadaver. Ozpin seemed obsessed with Summer and Qrow after that mission, which meant information was being withheld. Prying information from Qrow was pulling teeth from a creep. Summer would be easier to push, but their relationship was strained. Anger and fury is a better marinade than it is a sauce.

With Summer temporarily out of the way, Raven opened the door for her teammates as a de facto leader. If Summer was gone, it was time to show Ozpin the strength required of a leader and that she had what it takes, more so than Summer at least.

Grimm Studies was lazy. She didn't have to attend the last few lectures so she didn't bother with this one. The professor rambled on while Port actively nodded and agreed, which meant it wasn't up to the students to nod along. Thanks be to Port.

The fun began in Glynda's class. The assistant teacher for the day was none other than the autumn haired bitch that had yet proved herself as everyone's senior. She was young and loud. Glynda cringed when she spoke, because the class she reigned over everyday had been handed to a combat capable child.

"Alright! Oz decided you kids need to see some hand to hand combat. The best way to learn is hard. You don't remember a thing Peter whispers through his mustache, but you will remember when I need a broom to piece you kids back together. So, let's go. I'll take on whole teams at a time. Four on one. Prepare to be crushed."

The students looked at Glynda, stunned. They waited for her to explain it was a joke, and that they weren't truly being pit against a trained Huntress in her prime. Instead of solace, Glynda raised her crop at Carmen and said, "Team CRSS can start."

* * *

 _A/N:_ _Short chapter to make up for the long slogs I put you guys through. :')_

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	16. Chapter 16: Alerted Amber

Chapter 16: Alerted Amber

After sorting out several treaties Mistral petitioned Ozpin to sign, he was ready to relax. They were sorting out the details for the Vytal festival; Amity Colosseum sat vacant in Vale and air permits were required to send it over to Mistral. Hosting it last year was a pain. Signatures everywhere, red tape binding him from putting forth fights worth watching, minds worth developing. Shade's lack of policy birthed survivalists. They were a testament to humanity's resilience. If a school without of country could defend the Relic of Destruction, then how could they not succeed in their shadow war?

The politics of Atlas churned. The military began playing a bigger role in civilian matters. Ironwood's specialists flooded him with unnecessary information and Atlas began stalling dust deals to keep Amity afloat. Why? Ironwood ascended to the position with a bull's head and an invisible heart, and now his hot head soothed to a temperate patience. Their details on the Winter Maiden became sparse. A shame, the first Winter Maiden was wise, but her successors refused to be.

The immediate problem was moving Amity to Mistral. The fact that the Vytal Festival faced problems in arrangement meant someone was planning something, and Ozpin crossed his fingers to hope it wasn't Salem.

He sipped from his mug. His mind wandered to easier issues. The easiest one: how to soothe Glynda after dropping Amber onto her this morning. Once Amber was set down a path, she followed it to the end. That predictability made her a great agent, but it made her the only agent. Who could work in a room oppressed by an ego that large? Not Glynda. He checked the security system.

Team TMWD vs. Amber. Ozpin barred her from using magic. She avoided using her semblance and her powers to "give a handicap for the students." That wasn't as true as it sounded. Amber and magic were a bad combination. She was reckless. He didn't like seeing her use it by herself, but with a room full of students… That was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

Amber graduated Beacon middle of the pack. It helped cover her powers from any apparent threats while she could grow into a true Maiden. It didn't work. She was too loud to the wrong people, shot too many fireballs elsewhere. Ozpin made sure to beat close quarter combat into her thick skull, because it would be the only thing keeping her from bombing the landscape with a meteor, wiping herself out alongside her opponent and any living creature for a few hundred yards. She was scary, volatile, but consistent in her volatility. Keeping her happy was important. If wailing on students kept her happy, then consider every Beacon student from now to twenty years in the future wailed on.

Amber had to assert her dominance. This must have been the first match of the class period, because the audience was filled with enthusiasm. Watching the first team being beaten down was fun; the fourth wouldn't be. Baba went to slash her back as Dion distracted her front, but she bent her legs down into a jackknife and Baba swung at Dion. She tripped Baba, beat as much aura out of him as she could, and continued staving off students with her staff. It had an embarrassing name. He didn't want to use it.

Fice. A portmanteau of fire and ice. How creative. A four year old named the staff. He'd never tell it to her face, though.

Team TMWD had the intimate experience of being brutalized by Summer together. One by one, the students fell to her staff, and whatever strikes they landed accomplished zilch. Her aura was magnified by magic. Harming a Maiden meant she wanted to be harmed, or the enemy was imbued with magic. To kill a Maiden was impossible. By arming every country with an indestructible shield, the Wizard sought for peace. But shields with minds were not safe. Young folly, Ozpin. Young folly.

Youth make mistakes, and this class was no exception. The second team was up to bat, and they fouled. Amber destroyed them twice as fast as Team TMWD; at least Baba had a plan. The third fell. The fourth fell. The fifth team, Team CRSS, that was a strange matchup. Gretchen's door-shield supported the range from afar. Their semblances matched up well; Gretchen and Shiro kept Amber from getting close to Heather and Carmen. Shiro was the first to go down. He misstepped towards her, she kicked in his shin and the fire crystal bludgeoned his forehead.

Watching Shiro go down set Gretchen alight. She was more ambitious with her defense. Every move Amber planned was blocked by broad shoulders and doors, and Amber's eye gleamed with magic. Yes, that was her understudy as a Maiden. Amber wanted to test her. Using the ice half of Fice, she used surprise to her advantage and locked Gretchen's feet long enough for Amber to slip past. Without a front line, Carmen went down fast. Her aura wasn't made for hand-to-hand nor staff-to-face combat. Two more thumps and the team's guardian was the last woman standing. Amber kicked the floor with her toes first, impatient for Gretchen to make the first move. She wouldn't. That was obvious. The two women stared at each other. Stared. And stared. What was Amber doing? Gretchen steeled herself for an assault, one that didn't come. Amber resorted to words.

"Don't want any bruises? Trying to look cute for your boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Maybe I should aim for the legs. He likes that."

"It won't work."

"Then why is it working?"

"Is it?"

Amber's eyebrows furrowed. Gretchen wouldn't take the bait. Amber wasn't used to not getting her way. She was unhappy. She pointed to her teammates lying on the floor, aura twitching in the red.

"You have the most brains but the least brawn. Or maybe the least brains? Shouldn't you have defended the people who could have done something? With the power to do something?"

"Yes."

Again, Gretchen refused to take the bait. She stood, firm, waiting for a frontal attack. Amber's eyes perked up.

"Do you talk in more than two words at a time?"

"Your mole is cute." Taiyang's hand counted the amount of words in the audience, and he yelled out the number four. The class, who had their floors wiped by Amber, were waiting for something to cheer on. They laughed. Amber seethed. Amber frowned.

"Gretchen! Gretchen! Gretchen!" Taiyang cheered. He bumped Dion Sees, who joined in with sore arms. Qrow joined in. The class joined in. A sea of student voices cheered on Gretchen's name, standing behind her shield, but nothing changed on Gretchen's face. She stood. Anticipating. Insolent children made Amber mad, unhappy. Amber took the bait, ran into Gretchen.

She didn't stand a chance. No surprise there. But Amber's understudy lasted longer than anyone could have expected. Resilient in ways a Maiden should be. A steady flame, rather than a flippant flicker that bursted to infernos when it got mad.

Ozpin needed to test this one.

Team STRQ fought without Summer. Amber zeroed in on Taiyang and he was knocked out cold. While she dug into the new meat, Raven and Qrow got a few solid thwacks on her. Didn't budge her meter of aura, but the kids cheered and Glynda clapped. Then she made eye contact with the camera and put her hands down. Qrow's semblance tripped Amber over Taiyang's limp legs and she turned a fall into a tumble, but the sly save wasn't enough to stop the first years from cheering on STRQ. Well, RQ. The twins smiled at each other and laughed before Amber got to them, and Gretchen cheered the loudest.

 _A/N: We write how we read. I finished Disgrace by Coetzee and my mind has trimmed the flowers off my prose. Hope you like it! Intentional omission is fun._

-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III


	17. Chapter 17: Silver Spoons and the Room

Chapter 17: Silver Spoons and the Room

* * *

"Man, I love kids. Don't you?" Amber asked Glynda.

"I wouldn't call what you did 'love.' I'd call it 'sadism.'"

"No, they were personalized ass kickings. Who wouldn't want one?"

"I'm glad you never dipped into teaching."

"If my hands weren't full with magic, maybe I would have. It's fun."

"Teaching shouldn't be fun."

"Then what makes you stay?"

"Oh, Amber is interested in what I have to say? When did Remnant go topsy-turvy?"

"Nobody has said that in years. You're too young to be talking so old, Glynda."

"And you're too old to act like an entitled teenager."

"You'd know. You work with them."

While Amber and Glynda got at each other's necks, Ozpin tried to make peace with himself at his desk. The cogs spun, moving the next, the first rippling the machination to finish its job. To be frank, the energy behind the first cog was a catalyst. The cogs did the hard work, building on each other to twist and turn one side towards another. It was important to remind himself that there were more minds than his to handle. Every step between him and Salem was autonomous and had to spin on their own volition. Convincing a child that Ozpin's idea was their own idea was difficult, but necessary. Those children included Amber, Glynda, Port, everyone. A few lifetimes' worth of experience taught Ozpin that humans weren't made with success in mind. Their creator wanted them to be happy, not successful. If they were going to be crushed underneath the foot of Grimm, then so be it. By the time they acted in self-preservation, the window of success passed by like a train showcasing what optimal life could be. A shepherd for sheep that wanted to throw themselves off a cliff because that seemed like fun. Some sheep were sharper. Glynda was. She was a lucky find.

Bartholomew re-entered the office with two books and files in hand. In tow was Qrow, trying to hold onto a stack of volumes that wanted to hit the floor. They were placed on the desk.

"I thought school was about the friends you made along the way."

"For some. For others, it's about protecting the political bonds that keep Remnant together. For you, it's about preventing the Mantle of the past interfering with the Atlas of the present and the geopolitical scape of the future. That's the fun part of history, my friend. Using the old to make the new, like clay before the oven." Ozpin sipped his coffee. He'd need the proper state of mind to listen to Bartholomew.

"When did I agree to this?"

"In the hospital."

"I didn't even answer yet."

"We know you're going to say yes," Bartholomew nodded.

Some kids need a push. Catalysts can't sit around forever, and Salem is a catalyst for destruction. Poor child. He deserves better. But everyone deserves better, and somebody has to do the hard work. Might as well disguise it.

* * *

Why was it, that every time Qrow had to step foot in this cursed tower, there was always a gang of adults ready to send him back into the fray so they could sit back and relax? Okay, that was an overreaction. They all had their roles to play. But it seemed like their roles were boring, paperwork filling, war room planning jobs while they sent the new generation out to do the dirty work. The more he thought about it, the more he preferred it this way. Port wasn't busting in heads as well as Qrow could, that's for sure. Ozpin had a cane. Who fought with a cane? Eh, he'd seen more ridiculous weapons before. Either way, it felt good to be needed.

Bartholomew sat across from Ozpin and grilled him on the geography of wherever Qrow was headed to. He wanted to listen and be part of the conversation, but he heard it before. Twice. On the way to the history wing and on the way back. All the books he carried, they had gone through and read the important sections. Three years back, it only took ten months for Bartholomew to write four volumes. Qrow had difficulty pushing a page for his journal entries, sometimes so sparse a page took three weeks. That man's brain worked differently than Qrow's, than everyone's. He respected and feared it. Maybe his metabolism ran him down fast, and he only had 30 years to live. That sounded like a good life. Burn bright and leave. No need to overstay the welcome.

The end goal of these missions was to uncover what the Mantlesian loyalists wanted, or if they even existed. Watts wore the coat. Yes. But why did he wear the coat? Watts was a confusing pawn in the game, and the fact that Merlot was on his side was even more confusing. What did a disgraced Valean scientist and a Mantlesian loyalist have in common? Being sad? Merlot's genetically modified Grimm were threatening. Why would Mantle, if they existed, team up with a disgraced Valean scientist? Something here wasn't working out, and that's what Qrow and Amber were set to find out.

"Alright, tough guy," Amber patted Bartholomew's shoulder. "This is a long list. Capture a genetically modified boarbatusk, capture a quote-unquote creeper. What do those quotes mean? See if the PNY left any traces, find the subway car that Watts used and try to see what data he accessed, return to the Merlot Industries building and see if there's anything worth salvaging, track down where exactly Merlot went, uncover a Mantlesian loyalist conspiracy, piece together the moon, find Peter Port a wife who won't leave him…"

"It's a long list," Qrow confirmed.

"Give me the other kid," Amber said.

"Which one?" Bartholomew asked.

"The understudy."

"Why do you need her?"

"Understudies need to rehearse. Actually, bring all of STRQ. Replace Summer with the understudy. There we go."

"I'm not opposed," Ozpin said.

"Then it's settled! The fuckers come with me."

"Be kind to the children."

"If they didn't want to be called fuckers, they shouldn't have fucked."

Qrow paused. How did she know that? And brought it up in casual conversation like it was school gossip that people talking about over the dinner table? Whispering in the halls? Oh, he regretted it before he even did it, but that was going to be the magnum opus of his first year. Qrow banged a girl and went on a mission with her. He didn't even want to bang her. She was so enthusiastic and dudes bang. That's what they did, Qrow thought. He wanted to hold Summer's hand again.

"You're red," Amber said. She smirked. He hated that. "When I was your age, the library was used for reading. How the generations have gone."

"She's only five years older than you," Bartholomew pushed up his glasses.

"Whose side are you on, you green prick?"

"History's."

Things moved fast when the Headmaster wanted them to. Bureaucracy slowed down teaching, grading, and the like. Beacon, on the outside, was a infallible but barely progressing monolith of monkeys who wanted a week to pass before any meaningful change could get past Glynda and onto Ozpin's desk. Give it enough coffee and not enough things to do, and something at Beacon might change in the next week.

Or the day after. Raven, Taiyang, Gretchen, and Qrow filed behind Amber and rode a Bullhead out towards Mountain Glenn for round two. Qrow didn't know if he wanted to go back into that cesspool. Not only the Grimm, but the memories, and then the Grimm would feed on him feeding on the memories, and the loop would close around his neck.

"These things are nice. I could get used to this."

"Always thank your bus driver, kids."

Amber waved to the cockpit on their way out. Again, the pilot sat with his bird perched on the mountain but nobody stayed with him. They didn't want to risk losing another Summer. The information they learned was pivotal in something. They discovered a supporting pillar but didn't know what building it was for. Mountain Glenn was a desolate, brown, dead, and dry place. It hid something. Qrow paced around some ruined building while he waited for Amber to tell them what to do. She didn't.

"Being here must be hard. Especially so soon." Gretchen said.

"I'll be fine."

"Fine is a word."

"Thanks for checking up on me."

"You kept checking up on her. It's not your fault, you know."

"I know."

"You know it, but you don't feel it." Gretchen continued. Raven looked over, out of her sight lines, with a red eye that would scare off anyone. Tai drooled at it. Who made this school? He wanted out.

"Who gave you permission to get inside my head?" He joked.

"When I gave you permission to get inside me."

"Who are you and what have you done with Gretchen?"

"C'mon. We don't need to be shy around each other."

Which was the exact reason why Qrow was shy around her. She didn't need to. She laid it all bare, showed him everything she had, and Qrow told her he loved it. She thought they were having a good time, she thought they were on the way towards something meaningful. Qrow didn't know the meaning of meaningful. He hadn't found it yet. Didn't know if he ever would. He needed to apologize to her. She deserved better. Deserving is one thing, and delivering is another. Now wasn't the time. Was it? They were on a mission. That's right, they were on a mission. For Ozpin. For the betterment of society, to uncover the Mantlesian loyalists. That had lives at stake. What did this weird relationship have at stake? Nothing. They'd forget about it in a year and nobody would speak a word about it except at parties where he could flex his trophy of an achievement. The library, they'd gasp! But Mantlesians, they were a political adversary of Atlas and Vale. Free real estate in making Atlas owe Vale. Not that it was necessary, Ironwood was in Ozpin's pocket.

"You still here?" She asked. He wasn't.

"We're going down." Raven dropped down the rope they left last time they were here. It was recent, the rope hadn't gone brown with wear yet. Their hands must have been the last few to touch it. He didn't want to descend.

"How did you guys fit in this thing…" Gretchen said, trying to wiggle her shield into the hole they created. It was big enough to fit Vulcan, but a giant door was a tad larger than a hammer. She took a moment to squeeze down, and she showed Qrow some teeth when the door slid down. He was alone. For the first time in a week, he was alone. He enjoyed it. After sitting down next to the hole back into hell, he debated what he was going to do. Jump back into that place, or stay up here where it was safe. Easier. Better. He didn't have to look at his failure.

* * *

"Do we have everyone?" Amber asked.

"No." Raven replied.

"Whatever, he can catch up. Can't let him have all the fun." Raven didn't like her. Adults were supposed to nurture and cultivate the sweet seeds of students, but she ran them down and assumed they would keep up. There wasn't time for failure with Amber. That was a good thing almost all the time, but that low percentage where her brother was a failure meant Qrow would get left behind.

Without Summer, Raven was the de facto leader. R T Q G. B X B R? BBRT? Bright. Team Bright. What a horrible name. At least leading them would be good experience, and showing off her abilities before Summer was back might secure her position. She wasn't jealous, to be clear. Raven wasn't jealous of anything. She wanted what she deserved. Envy and justice are distant cousins.

She followed Amber through the tunnel, who used her weapon and semblance to boost herself to tiny holes in the corners of fallen rock. From there, she would widen the hole and let the students follow. Her flashlight was easy to follow. After passing a few of these barriers, Amber sat in the window and waited for the three to join up.

"You kids ever caught a Grimm?"

They hadn't. Amber sighed, and begin explaining how the team was going to prep a boarbatusk. She laughed and said it was a good thing Qrow didn't come, because it was a two person job at best. Amber was going to do everything and one person was going to lug it around. What solid team building! She set herself to do the hard work. Like they hypothesized at home, the Grimm set their eyes directly on her and didn't even look at the students. Her aura must come in the boat loads. Using a weird rope with two balls at each end of the twine, she baited the weird looking boarbatusk into planting itself in a wall, kicked it over, and tied the legs together. It was still stupid. The creep genes didn't help at all.

"Boarbacreep down. Let's get a big one."

"Who let you name the Grimm?" Raven asked.

"Raven, can I name the Grimm?"

"It's a good name," Gretchen supported.

"Fine," Raven said.

During their conversation where the students gabbed instead of fought, Amber set herself to torching the rest of the Grimm in this section of the tunnel. Tai lazily walked over to the little guy and picked it up. The Grimm didn't notice him with the aura reservoir shooting fire and ice. Once he was out of the way, Amber cast an explosion some ways off. She looked surprised, caught aback that she did it. She didn't say anything about it. That's scary.

"Alright, let's catch ourselves a big boy."

"How are we going to bring it home?"

"Good question. I'll leave the thinking to the smart people. I was never one of them," Amber said.

The kids looked at each other, trying to cast who the smartest person in the group was. Tai did the classic 'no can do, boss' nod, and Gretchen pointed up towards the surface. No, Raven didn't need him. She could do it. Why drag her brother down? Why did he attend if he's not going to do the mission? Whatever, she'd figure it out.

* * *

Qrow made himself useful. He got off his ass and started into the actual encampment of Mountain Glenn, now a huge den of Grimm. On the ride, Amber gave them a map and marked where they had to do everything. Sticking with them was safer, but sneaking around Mountain Glenn on his lonesome was easier. Travelling alone was easier. Everything alone was easier, now that he thought about it. No worrying about Gretchen's feelings, no worrying about his sister, no navigating what he thinks about Summer, no Tai, no Ozpin, no Amber. Hold it. Maybe Ozpin. The man gave Qrow direction, a place to do something.

No creeps to be seen. They like darker atmospheres, anyway. The huge hind legs combined with four eyes meant they were unwieldy but all-seeing. Creeping is more effective in the dark. Out here were Grimm who weren't afraid of looking, which meant weird boarbatusk/beowolf combinations. They stood on four stubby feet but still stood upright with big claws. Could they bend over to pick up speed with six legs? Some of these Grimm made no damn sense. No wonder Merlot was unsuccessful.

As he made his way through Mountain Glenn towards the old Merlot Industries building, the Grimm grew more dense. Something was drawing them into the building. Him too. He texted Raven on his scroll, that he was approaching the building, then put the thing on silent. No need to tell the Grimm he was here with a ping.

The key in sneaking around Grimm is to not think. They're keen on negativity, so getting around them involves not being seen physically and mentally. Out in the Wild, that was his mother's first lesson. To not die, don't think about dying. Don't think about the Grimm, don't think about a damn thing. Don't think at all, or maybe think about what dinner is going to be once he steals Shion's potatoes. That's what he missed about the Wild. Stealing was all kinds of fun, but it was stealing for survival's sake. Stealing in Vale was for fun, which defeated the fun. He felt like an asshole taking people's diamonds and dust when he knew there was some at school for him to use. It wasn't the same.

Qrow snuck up a utility pole and sat on the roof, looking at the broken windows for a way in without cutting himself.

He wanted to return to Mistral. Didn't Ozpin mention something about the Vytal Festival being in Mistral this year? The Vytal Festival was one of the most interesting bits about history, something rural farmers never would know unless they visited the big cities for market at the right time. All the countries got together to celebrate happiness and unity and all the good stuff, so they pooled together a ton of money to create a floating arena that used up massive amounts of dust so they wouldn't be on any country's ground. Since Vacuo's government shat itself after ponying up dust money without using Faunus slave labor, the other three countries worked their asses off to make it work. They carried Vacuo. And they were fine with it! It was all pity! Pity, being a strong force in politics? Unheard of. Especially in Mountain Glenn. Hey guys, let's doom a whole people and once they're in the tunnels, let's doom them again. Double nice. Who made that call? They're an asshole.

A boarbawolf looked around, sniffing something in his direction. Ah, political anger. C'mon, little guy. That's not a negative emotion. Qrow calmed himself down and sneaked onto the building support revealed by carnage and time. He was getting closer to an office building. Why was this place so big?

That kind of stuff is what made Vale change for the better. Vale and Mistral finally obtained some self-respect and banned slave labor, Atlas banned it in name but not in practice, and Vacuo didn't have anyone to ban it for them anymore. That put Faunus is a weird position. Were they enslaved or were they not? If Vale and Mistral cared so much about them, why wouldn't they pressure Atlas to enforce their policy instead of letting dust companies do what they want? There were an insane amount of dust companies running people into the ground in both senses. Lionheart was a faunus. Why didn't he make a change? Rally some diplomatic pressure, piss off Mistral and make some trade embargoes or something that mattered? History was fun. Qrow wanted to write a book on the stuff, but he wasn't sure the words could come out. Not like Bartholomew could, with those volumes on volumes of tomes on the stuff.

By the time Qrow was done thinking, he arrived on a reinforced room. It was special. The outside of it was scratched but remained its original color, unlike the eroded black of everywhere else. Merlot is a shade of red, idiots. They should have used more red.

There were four Grimm in the hallway before Qrow got to them. A terminal outside the reinforced door shone green. He tried to access it. Some weird menu popped up and he wasn't sure how to work it. The country boy versus the wacky green terminal. He fiddled with the options and was asked for a password. It had to be close by if it existed at all. Important rooms had important passwords, it was going to be something Ozpin would put on it. Wait, Vale worked with Merlot Industries before they discovered the twisted science. He checked his scroll, somehow he still had a signal. Time to call Ozpin.

"Hello, Qrow. Aren't you at Mountain Glenn? How are you calling me?"

"I am."

"That shouldn't work. Wait, keep your scroll on. Glynda. Ask Hera at the CCT tower to trace how Qrow is calling me." Qrow heard a faint 'fine.'

"Ozpin, I'm at a door. I need to open it."

"Yes, Qrow. You're on the cusp of something big, and you need to unlock it. Nobody can take the first step but you. I believe whatever choice you make will be the right one."

"What?"

"Imagine life as a chess board. The commander sips his coffee, and prepares the rook for a suicide mission to take the queen. At some point, it becomes necessary to dissolve-"

"Ozpin, it's an actual door. A real door. A real-ass door, Ozpin."

"Oh."

"There's a reinforced door at Merlot Industries and I want in. The building is still drawing in the Grimm, so there must be something here attracting them."

"A sound hypothesis to me."

"Help me."

"How long does it take for you to ask for help? You kept providing details but the one I needed the most: you needed my help."

"Open the door, Ozpin."

"Yes, yes. Does it look like a Dr. Merlot personal office, or is it more of a science wing?"

"Uh. It's towards the top of the building. I'd assume they need a lot more space for science, so they would do that underground. Probably an office."

"I knew the man well. He was smart, but arrogant."

"Pass. Word. Please."

"Try 'yes like the wine' with no spaces."

Qrow slowly typed it into the terminal, but it didn't work. The two kept going through passwords until the terminal blinked positive. Qrow didn't put in a password for that one. The door spun a lock open. And another lock. And then some bars. It was a convoluted door, protected by menial words. That's weird. It should open after a password. Oh well, he didn't understand technology.

"I'll get you a headset instead of using your scroll next time. I didn't know you would be working alone."

"Neither did I," Qrow shrugged.

"Well, let's inspect inside."

Beyond the door was a room well lived in, as if the owner went on vacation and was going to come back soon. Non-perishable food left in cans, a crusty bowl with no ants trudging through, an inhospitable bed in the corner. Someone lived here. Not that recently, but definitely after Mountain Glenn fell and was bombed. Qrow went to the personal terminal, and prepped Ozpin for whatever he was about to find. It was open to _Kitty Khan Goes to the Hot Springs_. The KKC account was for "LikeTheWine."

"That's Merlot's. I doubt there's anything too good on here, but it's time to search. Start somewhere."

Qrow started by resuming the video. It was a good episode.

* * *

 _A/N: School is up! I'm going to start sending out works to publishers this summer, mostly academic work. Wish me luck. See you folks in two weeks._

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	18. Chapter 18: Poor Girl

Chapter 18: Poor Girl

* * *

The computer hid its secrets away, locked tight. After Kitty Khan was up, Qrow began searching through the desktop. He had small, nominal experience with navigating through a computer. Enough for him to not be _too_ confused. Merlot's terminal was a mess of icons with a series of folders on the left side all with names of different serial numbers. He opened up a file manager and looked for the most recent date. Who doesn't save things to their desktop? And the most recent date was… right now.

"Ozpin. The files. They're moving by themselves."

"I doubt that's possible. Turn off the terminal's connection to the CCT. You'll be able to browse undetected."

"How do I, uh, do that?"

"The bottom right hand corner, there should be three bars."

"There's three bars, but only two are shaded in."

"Yes. That one."

"This looks nothing like a scroll."

"Old dogs can't learn new tricks. A fancy new bone like an updated operating system might slow down his progress as he learns to adapt to the new tools. Think of it like chess, where-"

"Your stupid voice makes me think of chess. How do I turn this off?"

"Right-click the bars."

He clicked with the right side of the mouse. Nothing happened.

"Was that supposed to do something?"

"Are you sure you're right-clicking?"

"This thing is just one button! There is no right one!"

The mouse started resisting upwards. He wanted it to stay in the bottom-right hand corner, so Qrow dragged it back. The cursor fought back, going towards the icons. Goddamn computer. As he kept battling with the cursor and trying to move it where it ought to be, Qrow noticed that the background image of the desktop was a little boy. He had white hair and beamed back at the camera. On top of his head was a red, bionic arm that ruffled his hair and played with it. Despite the threatening appearance, in that gentle caress was love. A careful love. As the cursor began to win, Qrow jolted it up and down to mimic picking the little boy's nose. It seemed to piss the cursor off as it stopped moving in passive aggression. What sort of man made a little boy his wallpaper? Disgusting.

The cursor opened LettersInc, which is where he wrote his essays for his classes. Out came a few words: _I know you're here._ Qrow reported it back to Ozpin and the two waited for the word processor to continue. It did. Ozpin didn't sound surprised. Calm. Soothing. This would have been troubling if Ozpin didn't know what to do. It continued: _He's using you, little birdie. Like he uses all his students._

"He must be watching. Do you see any cameras?" There were. Two in opposite corners of the ceiling.

"Qrow. The Valean CCT doesn't reach to Mountain Glenn. Merlot has some sort of mechanism to extend and possibly control communication signals. I already sent you a map. Destroy the extender. If he can tap into the CCT, then he must be listening to our conversation."

"Wait, Ozpin. Don't go!"

"He can hear us. Good luck."

"Wait, don't! Shit. Shit, shit shit!"

Ozpin hung up the call. Qrow was frantic. What was he supposed to do? Okay, calm down, bird brain. Think. Think. Plan A: Reconnect with the rest of the team, inform them about what happened, and destroy the extender. Plan B: Destroy the extender. Good, good. Step 1 of Plan A was to leave the room, which seemed somewhat difficult now.

The big door locked itself.

Qrow was trapped in the control room without the faintest clue of how to work it. Qrow knew he could save everyone and everything in Mountain Glenn with some button pushes. All he needed was to know what to do. That's what logic begged him to do, but his heart strings didn't think that far ahead. Instead he took Crimson Rose, which Summer gifted him on the first day he visited her, and started slashing at the door. He scratched it. And scratched. He screamed as loud as could and continued slashing. His anger, his panic, all vented through planted heels, turning at the waist, slashing at the door. It left marks. That's all Qrow wanted.

Proof that he did something. Then he set himself to work.

The door resisted Crimson Rose. Summer's family and Taiyang's family were close, so the weapon was made of top-grade materials. If it wasn't making a dent into the door, that meant the door was higher grade. Closing off this room from the rest of Merlot Industries meant this was a place of power, a good position to be in. There was something in here Merlot didn't want people to see, and he only allowed Qrow in and locked him in because Qrow couldn't access it. Or, didn't know he could access it. That would be the first step to Plan B: access codes or manuals.

The desktop was cluttered, but there were no icons around the little boy's eyes. Brown and kind, and in them was love. Merlot liked him for a reason, and hopefully he was family of some sort. Son? Nephew? What was his name? Qrow went to move the cursor. The screen tabbed out to the word processor, that typed out _Nice try._ Then the screen went blank. _No Signal_ appeared mockingly. Of course, Merlot still had remote access to the computers. He wasn't here. How could he access the network? The CCT? That's how phones worked.

Okay. Disconnect Mountain Glenn from the CCT extender and Merlot would lose control. Ozpin must have put the extender on the map he sent. Qrow opened up the image. It wasn't a map. It was a list of assorted letters in a weird shape. Together, he saw a B, an X. On the other side, another B and an E. This wasn't a map. If it got past Merlot, it couldn't be one. No, that was the point. Merlot would have stopped the map from going. Two Bs? What on Remnant was that?

He went back to analyze the room. Codes. Codes. He flipped everything he could for something metallic, something that would get him out of the room.

No! The Bs! They were codes for Branwen! The X was Xiao Long, and the E was the extender! The B and E were overlapping, that meant he was directly on it. Why didn't Ozpin say that? Qrow set himself to finding the extender. This would be an exercise in empathy towards Merlot. A man he had never seen in his life. Either a wild search or an educated, empathetic search. Both were bad ideas.

* * *

Amber told Raven to stay back. She did. The thin man with three girls flanking him approached. They fit the descriptions Qrow provided. Freckles. They weren't as cute as the report said, they were average. Tai wasn't getting his rocks off to them. And he liked danger. Three of them. That was more than one.

R A G T? Regret? Not a color, but would fit for the four of them. In the stark dark of the cave, the four directly opposed the other four.

"Arthur Watts! I read your file. What a grade A guy."

"Fall Maiden! Who doesn't know you? The only Maiden that announces her every destination like a fool. Whose idea was it to return to the scene of the crime, as if we weren't watching it?" Maiden? That rung a bell in Raven's head.

"Shut up."

"This is Ozpin's third time here. Why wouldn't we be prepared for you to return? Do you know whose scroll we bugged to track? Yours. Because you used it to take pictures and sent them back. Why, Maiden, you don't have a head on your shoulders."

"Shut up." Amber's head grew hot.

"Did I make the toddler mad?"

"Shut up!" The bottom of Fice shot out a shard of ice headed towards Watts, but one of the bots intercepted it with a stringed sword. The Grimm nearby began turning their heads.

"In fact, we don't need to fight at full force. 01, follow me back to the stragglers. 02, 03, kill them." One of the PNY bots retreated. Off to find Qrow. Shit. What a pain. If the last report was right, he wouldn't be able to stave off one. They had Amber.

"Semblance. You go, I stay," Raven told Gretchen. What was the plain girl going to do down here? It was safer with Amber, at least Raven thought. She wasn't so sure about that now. As the hothead dove into the fray, Raven summoned up her Semblance and followed Amber in. They needed a battle plan. Her aura pinched her back as Gretchen went through to Qrow, and Raven closed it up.

"Focus the right and Taiyang will cover our left flank!" Raven called out. Amber didn't hear her. A wild gust of wind shot out from the tunnel, jarring the Grimm. The genetic mishaps came tumbling towards the highest aura in the corridor, Amber. The white butt of her staff landed in a bot and erupted the room full of glittering ice. Amber screamed and popped it. The PNY bot didn't look happy, but it wasn't about to keel over. It responded by casting out its web of swords and zoning off the students. They weren't going to win this. How would Qrow?

"Kids, stay back! I can barely control this shit! If we're gonna save your brother, I need to kill these things, and fast!"

Amber started levitating. Flying, levitating. Her staff glowed, matching her pissed face, and went to make quick work of the bots.

* * *

Qrow toyed with the terminal buttons, but no dice. The screen kept displaying _No Signal_.

He read through two different documents detailing the genetic modification of the Grimm. They weren't in manila folders or some generic evil looking cabinet, Qrow pulled them from the trash can underneath the bag of chips. Cheese dust crusted the edges.

In it were a series of drawings, looking like Merlot's hand. Taiyang was way off with naming them "boarbacreeps;" Merlot dubbed them "Optimus." Three sketches of boarbacreeps, with lists of their pros and cons. The next page was his dream boarbacreep, with the least amount of cons and too many pros. It was terrifying to face. Instead of mixing anatomy, the creep took the armor dressings from the boarbatusk and made an empowered creep to cover its flaws and not add any more. None of this gave Qrow a password to the door or told him where the CCT extender was.

A familiar rip sound came by. Raven arrived to save him! Oh, this was going to be good. He looked up in impatience. Out came Gretchen. Damn it. She crashed down and landed on top of Qrow.

"Qrow, you're not safe here. Watts is coming for you."

"What happened?"

She explained how Watts had approached the main group with three bots, and he had sent one out to find "the straggler." She took Raven's semblance to save him, leaving Amber and Raven and Tai to fend off two bots and Watts himself.

"Gretchen."

"Yes?"

"He's not coming for me first. He's coming for the Bullhead. We have a little bit of time."

"Oh no."

"We can't worry about him now. You've taken a portal into a locked room that I've been trying to escape from. Also, there's a machine that allows Merlot to tap into Vale's CCT connection. We have to destroy that."

"I don't remember this in the briefing," Gretchen said, stunned.

"Yeah. I work alone, I guess."

"I'm here now. Let's go."

The two worked a hurricane around the room. On a brief break, she started toying with a lamp in the corner. She looked for the off switch. There wasn't one. She asked the world why there wasn't an off switch for the lamp. Qrow swore, if that was the stupid extender. He opened Crimson Rose and slashed a wire that connected it to the wall. After fiddling with the terminal's power button, it booted back up. Maybe working with people wasn't a total failure.

It turned on, yes, and he didn't have to enter a password to get in, but the computer had been wiped clean. It said the files had been corrupted. Another dead end. At least the extender had been disconnected. A tall pole in the corner of the room. Now that he thought about it, the pole extended through the ceiling of the room and onto the top of the building. That must have been the antennae. After some quick deliberating, Qrow laid out some of the dust Crimson Rose used for its bullets and popped them in the corner. It destroyed the bottom half of the pole and papers tossed up in a whirlwind, disrupting the bookshelf and the desk. More importantly, a hole. In the corner.

"They reinforced the door and not the floor! Yes! Why play a rigged game?"

"You're so happy," Gretchen laughed.

"Quick. Bullhead. Before Watts and the bot gets here."

"Right," she mumbled. She sounded sad. When he got back home, he had to tell her. Tell her that everything about this relationship was wrong. He wanted to cover her head with a paper bag of Summer and that was fucked up. The second they got on the Bullhead home, in fact. He would say, "Sorry. For leading you on." She liked him too much, she loved him, and he feared it. Monster under the bed-type fear. There was Gretchen, trying to hug him.

He tried to shimmy his foot down. No way this could fit a person. While Qrow readied his next move, a rumble shook the floor below him.

The familiar whir of a bot powering itself could be heard in the distance. Locked in Merlot Industry's highest tower, the damsels in distress were powerless as they realized Watts was coming. Watts was coming and he had a murder bot that could make quick work of the two of them. Rapunzel could not let down her hair to the prince charming below.

He sat down on Merlot's bed to think. If Qrow could get the door open, they wouldn't be in this mess. If they could slip down, then they could leave. Something was wrong here. Why couldn't Qrow outsmart this room? The CCT extender was gone, that must mean something. It's not like Qrow should be powerless. That didn't make enough sense.

Qrow heard Watts's voice below him. Qrow failed. It was too late. He was dead now. Those bots were going to be the death of students. First Summer, now Qrow, then who? The entire school? Had Qrow not let it get this far, this wouldn't have happened.

"Your damn Maiden truly likes me. I have to make this fast. She's gone unhinged, tapping into power she cannot control. She must care plenty for you, little birdie."

"She's coming, you know. Once she's here, you're gone." That's what it sounded like.

A blade shot up the hole, and Qrow got out of its path. Gretchen stood her shield up, which took up too much space. The room was meager. Nominal. Tiny. The bot could dice them up. Qrow kicked the shield over the hole and sat on it. Gretchen joined him. His heart reminded him of itself.

"My associate's room isn't a love hotel."

"It will be when you kiss my ass, Watts."

"How repugnant."

"Fight me yourself." Blades scratched at where the shield met the floor, looking for an entrance.

"We can let the brutes battle. Qrow, we are men of intelligence. I appreciate that in you. Ozpin hadn't taught you enough, and now he will pay the consequences. In chess, every king is flanked by a queen. She can take the whole board, she can take a hit for her ruler, she can corner the enemy. I came prepared with three."

"And apparently yours knows when explosions go off."

"Thermal sensors. Commonplace for Atlesian technology. Explosions are hot, my boy."

"Will it see when Amber chars your body and uses you for tonight's kebab?"

"Your Maiden has no control over her powers. Why would the Fall Maiden even use ice? For the aesthetic? I'll never understand her." The blades eased their way between the shield and the open floor. The strings flipped it.

"Oh shit."

"Oh shit indeed, little birdie. 01, finish it. We need to finish fast."

Another rumble.

"Faster, 01." Watts was panicking?

The bot crept its way in. Gretchen donned her shield and covered Qrow as he cowered in the corner away from the bot. It could make quick work of him before, it could make quick work of him now. This would be the spot Qrow would die. In a corner. On some old man's bed. With a woman he didn't love.

"Shut up!" Amber's voice reverberated through Mountain Glenn.

As the PNY bot approached the two and put her blades up like a deathstalker, Gretchen hunched over Qrow to defend him. Her on all fours, Qrow like a newborn in the corner. She whispered, "You'll be okay. I love you. I love you so much." The blades sliced through the air. He heard them land on the back. The aura saved her, but for how long?

"Shut up!" Amber erupted.

Qrow closed his eyes to a bright flash of white and red. His senses honed onto the sounds and smells of Merlot's room. Screams from Watts's annoying mouth. From Gretchen's too. The sounds of metal being pierced by a glacier. The burst of fire in a room where it can't breathe. Gretchen's panting. He heard it once before, in the library, but this wasn't the same. The smell of charred skin. The smell grew closer as Gretchen grew limp. She laid down on him, her elbows the only thing propping her up away from his face. He opened his eyes.

Her dying face was ugly. Her brown skin blackened around the fringes. Her back smelled like a body going through a crematorium. Her hair was still there. Some frayed. But the eyes. Oh no, the eyes. Almost dead eyes were different than alive or dead eyes. That medium in between the two planes of existence were telling. Transitions between one and the other. The color hazel seemed to lose its hue. Not in the saturation way, but in the way of vitality.

Doomed hazel eyes locked with his. She tried to garble some words out. Her mouth opened. Instead of words, it spurted blood. Over Qrow's chin, on his neck, on his collar, Qrow was painted red, Qrow was covered in Gretchen's body and blood and he would never be clean. Her blood was moist. Wet. Wasn't water the fluid of life? Why did the wet mean death? Blood dribbled down her mouth and she laid limp atop Qrow.

Qrow didn't want to wait for someone to come save him. He was finished with being saved. Qrow shoved Gretchen's lifeless corpse off him, threw off the shield. It must have handled the brunt of Amber's rage. The fire melted the decor off the front and it was now a thick, faceless slab. Qrow dabbed some of Gretchen's blood onto it. Her headstone.

Doomed hazel eyes haunted Qrow when he blinked. He remembered what they looked like. They lingered long after they were welcome. The office was in tatters. Everything worth reading or retrieving was destroyed except for the PNY bot, so he brought it with him.

Hey, at least the hole in the corner was big enough now.

He dragged the headpiece and whatever followed down through the corner. Amber stood in a battle stance, clearly the epicenter of the burst. She flew, she actually flew over to Watts. Was her Semblance some sort of levitation? Or was it to burst like a toddler's tantrum and kill teenagers? Qrow could see Raven and Tai run over, up the stairs. The building was in bad shape. Mountain Glenn was in bad shape. In the middle of the settlement, a giant hole in the ground. The wind would blow away the burnt soil, but the building would remain a black tomb for Gretchen.

Watts was stuck in ice.

"You're in rough shape, Maiden. Can't control your powers? The stunt you pulled could have got you killed."

"Shut up, Watts."

"Magic is a tricky thing, isn't it? It's tied to you more than you think. I thought you'd aim at me, but no. You aimed to save the children. To think you hated them, and you let me live for them! How lucky am I? I get to live today."

"And be tortured tomorrow."

"Wouldn't be the first time. Ironwood is not a big fan of me." Magic, torture, Ironwood. He would remember that. If he could remove the doomed hazel eyes, he could make the space.

"Why are you working with Merlot?" Qrow asked.

"Tell you what. Beat me in a game of chess, and I'll answer five questions."

"I'll torture you for ten," Amber chimed in.

"I'll play."

"Qrow, I swear, you get to do all the cool shit. Are you okay?" Taiyang asked after making it up the stairs.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good to hear. You should have seen it. You should have seen it all. Amber started floating, and then she summoned this giant orb of fire and dropped it on a bot, and then the bot came straight for her and a gust of wind, we were in a tunnel where wind doesn't come by the way, blew the bot off. The weather raged for us, man. I don't know why, but it was magical. After Amber killed the bots using her Semblance or whatever, she busted a giant hole in the roof, almost killed me and Raven I swear, and flew after you." Tai continued.

"By the way, Gretchen is dead." Qrow said, voice deadpan. It was all he could muster at this point.

"What?" Raven asked.

"Poor girl," Qrow said. It was his fault, after all.

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry for this chapter being late! I had graduations to attend this week. My editor has an MS now. Happy days for me, not so much for Perch. Poor girl. Chapter 19 is still slated for the 1st, so don't worry about a late update again._

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	19. Chapter 19: She Didn't Leave Crumbs

Chapter 19: She Didn't Leave Crumbs

* * *

The iron tang of blood stuck around in Qrow's nose. It wasn't all that bad, watching her die. Dying isn't a bad thing. Everybody dies. Everyone vomits blood all over Qrow's chin and neck and collar and stains the white shirt of a Beacon uniform with a color darker than the tie. It was kinda funny, when he looked at the tie. It was a bright red now blotched with dark reds. Some disco party chic. Death was fine, death was funny. He'd seen it before back in Mistral, people that Qrow was supposed to lead. They died. He didn't know their names, but he attended their funerals and spoke like he knew them. It was fine. Dying was fine.

He felt nauseous. Raven tried to grab his back and have him sit down, but he didn't want to. He was tired of being dragged around, he wanted to stand on his own feet and choose where they go. Yes, he happened to choose to follow the rest of his team, but he was tired of his sister saving him. Worth less than useless. A burden.

The broken pieces of their team was tasked with taking everything they could to the Bullhead while Amber reacquainted herself with the cockpit. She threw the body of their pilot out without a second thought. She said Beacon only screened for pilots with auras, so he at least put up a fight. Going to a school for Huntsmen meant Qrow took aura for granted. Most of the people out in the world would have died to a robot raking blades across their back. He should consider himself lucky in the pure numbers game, but life didn't seem to agree with the numbers. The numbers couldn't calculate how a selfless woman would die. Gretchen said 'No, not this time, fate! I didn't want to live today anyway!' and did something nobody asked her to do. What compelled her to do that? She wasn't on Watts's shit list. She spat in the face of numbers. She spat blood in the face of Qrow, too. He lifted his hand up to touch it. It was dry. Caked in layers.

Romance is dead and he killed it.

Qrow didn't want to think about that now. If he took the time to unravel what happened today, his sanity would come with it and he'd spend the rest of his days in a ward and die a lonely death. Better to leave some stones unturned, but this stone would be hard to forget.

The team dragged Watts, who they tied and overtied for good measure, into the Bullhead. He face planted next to what was left of Merlot's terminal, the PNY bots, all the books and papers found in the office, and a dead body. The living samples of the genetic mashups were shoved into the back, and Tai sat using his body weight to hold the door where it was.

What do three young people and the person that murdered their friend talk about on the Bullhead home in front of the corpse? Watts's imminent torture? Why he did made moves against Ozpin? It was a weird dynamic, and Qrow didn't care much for it. Neither did Tai and Raven. Amber would have loved to see how far Watts's limbs curved, but she was busy driving. Doomed hazel eyes. They didn't want to die, they wanted to live and see the rest of the world. They wanted to go back home and see their brother and live a life of protecting the peace, and instead they stare into the side of a Bullhead tomb.

Watts broke the silence. "Do you kids believe in magic?"

"Read the mood," Raven said.

"What do you call Amber's show today?"

"A Semblance," Tai bit on his bait.

"When she was in school, Amber's Semblance was barely combat friendly. She could breathe fire like a circus act. She fought with a bow staff and breathed fire on her enemies. Horrible in academics, middle of the pack in combat. Before your Deputy Goodwitch came in, your combat classes were team focused, and team Amethyst (that's AMST, oh how I hate you Huntsmen) did poorly. Now, she doesn't breathe fire. She owns it. Controls it. Bends it to her will. She can call winds that can rip skin, summon ice to lock her opponents in glaciers. What do you call that?"

"She found out what her Semblance actually did, idiot," Tai said.

"You're funny. That's precious coming from you, Mr. No Semblance. What do you know about Semblances that gives you the right to call me an idiot, Mr. Failure of a Huntsman?"

"I'm too tired for this," Tai said.

" _You're_ too tired?" Watts pointed his chin at the dead body. Was that disrespectful? Pointing at the dead didn't seem respectful. She didn't look back, refusing eye contact. A shawl of doom, dried blood that matched Qrow's chin and collar that wouldn't come off. It came off, but it didn't. He saw it, but didn't. He tried not to think about it; his chin must have always been a murky brown-red.

The corpse smelled horrible. Not only was the smell of blood dominating the room, the thick stench of guilt and the sound of a heart not pounding ruled over Qrow's senses. He had to look, he had to stare. In case she came back, he wanted to be the first one to thank her. Qrow reached out for her hand, but he didn't deserve to hold it. He patted it and closed her fist, to help her fight her way back into the living. She was still out there. She wasn't _dead_ dead. Tomorrow morning, she'd be back.

Raven didn't do what Tai said, and refused to look at the elephant in the room. The plain elephant, the one that was poached for nothing but its horns. An elephant Faunus that grew ivory would be doomed in certain parts of Vacuo. Law enforcement for children in Vacuo was not optimal. It needed peace and someone to broker it.

"To be frank, your emotionally unstable pilot you call Amber is a magician. She owns magic. A lot of it. But magic wasn't made for humans to control and harness. She's a zygote when it comes to anything bigger than herself. The girl rampaged, used magic she could not control, and killed your precious friend. Which is poetry, really. Because that girl was on track to become a magician in training in case Amber died. She killed her own replacement with a pillar of ice! And she didn't kill me! What a turn of events! She's effectively a toddler. The corpse would be a better Maiden."

"There's no such thing as magic. You don't have any reason to tell us the truth. You're our enemy, you're a murderer," Qrow said.

"Where do you think she got the magic from, little birdie? If Remnant was an oil painting, you would be a pin-sized spot of blue that couldn't see a thing around it. You children have no right to tell me what is right and wrong when you hold one piece of the jigsaw but act like you've seen it all. You think you can't trust me? Arthur Watts is the only liar in your lives? Funnily enough, I haven't told you a single one. Check your homes if you want to see a liar, I have done nothing of the sort. What did Ozpin tell you to get you here? Did he make you feel useful somehow, part of a bigger cause? You're being used, and soon you'll be killed too."

"No. I trust Ozpin and I don't trust you," Raven said. Her voice shook. Saying words didn't make them true.

"Trust the man who manipulates hundreds of children a year to turn them into super soldiers loyal to him and only him. Yes, that makes sense! I never thought of that."

"Shut up," Tai said.

"I will. Thanks for the enlightening conversation," Watts smiled. Smug fuck.

* * *

When the students came back, Ozpin welcomed them personally at the hangar. Amber was driving and Gretchen was dead. Aside from that, the mission was a complete success. They had completed their objective with the Grimm, found new information about Merlot, and had the Mantlesian conspiracy unfolding in front of them with Watts and the bots. An almost complete success.

The students would need time and some counseling. That's how young minds worked. Better to see their first death sooner rather than later. Their friend dying? Heartbreaking. But there were more important things than hearts, like the livelihood of entire countries. He would let them rest until the Vytal Festival.

Beacon would have caught too much flak for a student dying on a mission above their level. It wasn't unheard of, students in the later years shadowing a Huntsman and dying in the field of work. Three students have died in the past decade. Huntsmen and huntresses died. Sometimes while training. They signed up to defend the world from Grimm. Some parts of the world needed stronger defenders. Any Valean sent to Vacuo was unprepared. They stopped doing that.

The world was losing touch with the threat of Grimm and Salem. The city of Vale had gone soft; there were people who could live their whole lives without seeing Grimm. Those people became news reporters and writers, living sheltered lives that couldn't understand the honor in dying for the common good. Not everywhere was a walled urban center. Most places needed to pay Huntsmen to stave off Grimm or homebrew their own Huntsmen, like the Branwens. From what little he read, seems like that why the twins were combat ready.

For the good of Remnant, for the good of the world, Huntsmen chose a career where they could die for others. That's why Ozpin never mourned these deaths. He had seen Gretchen in the eyes of a Huntsman before her, two before him, three before them, and continuing far into the years before Remnant had countries. Hundreds of thousands of good people chose the common good, and they earned his respect. He forgot how to cry. This body didn't need to anymore.

Vale wouldn't understand her death. Ozpin made some trades and promises, and no news outlet would report on the facts. At most, a Beacon student died on a mission. Being a first year, what the mission was, where it was, didn't need to be known. She died valiantly, and her death was the first stone on the way to uncovering the Mantlesians (if they existed, which Ozpin was sure they did). She wasn't in vain.

Gretchen was a drop in the ocean of sacrifice needed to keep Remnant safe. She had done her duty. Now he would replace her and continue on. That's the way it had been for centuries, and it will continue to be until the ground was magma and life was not lived. What number death was she? Ozpin lost count. If he cared for her, he would have to care for the rest of them. That was too much caring to go around, and all of his concern had to be directed towards safety and protection. The waves were still most days. Remembering their faces was hard. Humans were too personal to see the big picture.

She would have a warrior's funeral but the facts of the case would be swapped around and Amber would be hidden from the public. Historical research for Mountain Glenn, they had conducted two different safety missions, they followed every protocol, but they had been ambushed by squatters that were devoured by the Grimm before the safety team recovered Gretchen.

Ozpin called Ironwood about his lackey. Ironwood wanted to take part in interrogating him, because if what Ozpin said was true, there were a sect of traitors in the Atlesian army. That meant Vale had the two days before Ironwood arrived to study the PNY bots and what made them tick. Combat robots were commonplace, but a combat bot that looked like a little girl evoked empathy. If they added an aura to it somehow, Atlas would change how the world worked with technology. Ozpin didn't want to think about the moral implications of that. To avoid a political turmoil where an Atlesian officer murdered a Valean student, put the blame on the Grimm! He learned that lesson long ago. Everyone hates Grimm. If he needed to slip something past the public, Grimm it is.

After Team STRQ got some rest and the body was sent to a mortician, Ozpin made a mental note to sit down with Tsune to arrange things for the involved teams. The debriefing with Amber could wait until tomorrow. Might as well handle this situation now and give Amber a chance to rest.

Team CRSS would need to be notified. Given Gretchen's troubles with Carmen, he didn't think that Carmen would be particularly heartbroken but the other two might need some grief counseling. Still, best to offer them all counseling anyway. Not that it cost Beacon all that much for a few additional sessions, if they even took him up on it. In a few days, he could start to look into replacements for team CRSS if they were interested. Some teams chose to continue on with only their remaining members while keeping their name, though that admittedly didn't seem likely in this case.

Summer was left in an odd position; Ozpin made a mental note to debrief her tomorrow by herself so that she knew what to expect. She might feel survivor's guilt due to the person who took her place on the mission dying but it was hard to say for sure. The situation with her team would be uncomfortable given she didn't experience the death. He would offer her the choice to attend counseling sessions once she had recovered.

The remainder of team STRQ should be fine in time. This was Taiyang's first death. It would mess around with his psychology before strengthening him. The Branwens, debatable. They were strong. They had seen enough. Tomorrow, Ozpin would send Oobleck and STRQ minus Summer into Vale for legally mandated counseling sessions. Students were required to attend a minimum of three sessions after directly witnessing their first death. . However long Taiyang needed would be fine. The Branwens would hate to be patronized, he expected only the three if that.

The students didn't need a break, but they deserved it.

* * *

Vale seemed different. Qrow couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the city pissed him off. He threw away the shirt he wore yesterday and he got a new uniform, but he didn't want to wear it anymore. These uniforms were cursed. Cargo pants were a better alternative, and they blinded people with their tackiness.

Bartholomew escorted him, his sister, and Tai to an office in downtown Vale. Conversation was vapid. Nobody wanted to talk, Oobleck wanted to them to be better and they weren't better. They were failures in that way. Nobody could do what they asked. Overwhelming amounts of asking.

The office of Dr. Noah Lalott was cramped for three. Bartholomew left the room for medical confidentiality, but knowing how Vale worked, the notes the doctor would take today would be sent to Ozpin and reviewed for some psychoanalysis so they could toss him out of school if they wanted. Ozpin must have hated Qrow. He was a failure.

"My name is Dr. Noah Lalott, feel free to call me Noah. I was told I had two Huntsmen and a Huntress with a run-in with death and they wanted to see how you were doing. It's normal to feel horrible."

"Good, cause I feel horrible. I feel like shit. She died, Dr. Lalott. We were down in the tunnels of Mountain Glenn and she was there. We were about to fight a four on two. Then she took a portal back up. Next time I saw her, she was gone. I could have done something, done anything. I don't know," Tai said. So that's what happened. Gretchen took Raven's Semblance to him while they were in the tunnel together, about to fight two of the bots, and Gretchen valued Qrow's safety first. She portaled up, used her shield, lost her shield, used her body as a shield, lost her life, and rode the Bullhead back staring at the wall with blank eyes and dry blood. The smell. Qrow was nauseous again. He dry heaved thinking about her.

"Let's not invalidate feelings, Qrow. Mimicking vomiting sounds when a man shares his feelings means he might not share them again. You're coming from a different place than Taiyang is." Who told Dr. Lalott about them? He knew a lot, and yet nothing at all.

"That's a good starting place, Taiyang," Dr. Lalott continued. "We don't have to talk about her. The living have to keep living, and maybe I can sort your symptoms before we start uprooting the problem."

"That makes sense," Raven said. "I didn't like her much. I respected her as a warrior and it's a shame she is gone. But warriors sign up to die. I wish she could have gone further, she will be missed, but I'm not torn. People die." Yes, they die, but a selfless person dedicated to the cause of helping the world dying to help one selfish person who stole kisses he didn't actually want? That was not a respectful death, that was horrible. When some shabby author grabs her story, they will never notice what went through her mind, what drives a person to this. Qrow shook his head. Nobody understood why she did what she did except for him. They were stupid, they didn't understand, they were all ignorant. No conviction towards the common good is worth dying for. Care and concern is based in the world, worldly, things that can be touched, things that can be given or kissed. He was that thing and it was his fault. What were her last words? He didn't remember. He didn't want to. She wanted to say something and blood came out instead and drowned his mouth and he couldn't breath and now his collar would never be clean. He shook his head.

"That's a curious place to start. You think from an experienced and pragmatic point of view, which is weird for someone your age. Don't feel bad for grieving, but in the same vein, don't feel bad for not grieving. Feelings are always valid."

"Is my feeling to leave valid? I want to go. This is useless," Qrow said. "I don't need this."

"Talking our way through death is a good way to stay healthy and sane," the doctor reminded him. "This is a hard line of work. Taking time to recognize that and maintain ourselves is important. Nobody is too strong for feelings." Yes, but the feelings are too strong for Qrow. Those doomed hazel eyes. Poor girl. He'd never sleep again. Brown hair, good person, but doomed hazel eyes.

"I truly, honestly, for the life of me, believe that we could use our time better than this. I don't want to be here." Qrow finished.

"Many people dodge death by acting strong. We're here to chum the waters and see what submerges. There are two more sessions after this that you must attend, but after that they are your choice. Please be patient. Not everyone works at your speed."

"I'm going to The Web after this," Qrow shook his head. "We need some drinks."

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry for the onslaught of constant sad. At least it makes the jokes more funny by contrast! Enjoy the chapter._

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	20. Chapter 20: How Annoying

Chapter 20: How Annoying

* * *

The neon flashes begged Qrow back. Downtown Vale was beautiful at dusk, where the sun crowned skyscrapers and the sky wasn't blinding. A nice medium between blinding light and blinding dark. It was his favorite time of day. Snooping was easier. He made his way through busy streets populated by office workers on the commute home, and found himself of the flashy doorstep of The Web.

The bouncer looked at him funny. Right, he was still wearing his Beacon uniform today because the only alternative was a clubbing shirt that exposed too much. Gretchen liked that shirt. He'd have to burn it later today.

"Hey," he told the bouncer.

"Go away, kid. We don't got student discounts here." How could he escape being called kid? He was old enough to take care of himself. Kind of. He only ate on campus for the free food and he had run out of drinks. Huh, he was a kid. A kid who had the capacity to kill and protect cities and made history behind peoples' backs. A kid nonetheless.

"I've been here before. Just need some whiskey."

"Beat it, before I gotta get Junior."

"Get Junior. I can wait," Qrow said. The bouncer was apprehensive, because that sort of confidence only came from people who knew what they were doing. The best bluffing tactic Qrow used at other places, when he wasn't wearing a suit for kids. A dark blazer with gold accents? Yum. It would snatch eyes if it weren't a beacon of Beacon. The bouncer voiced into a walkie-talkie, another man came out, the bouncer explained the situation, the other man went back in, presumably got Junior from behind the bar who must have been making a drink for someone, came back, and then two big dudes with the skinny Junior were sizing Qrow up.

"Wait, I know you! You're the kid that beat Wolfgang Port," he smiled. "Don't tell me: you've decided to take my offer downstairs. C'mon, follow me."

Wait, no. That's not what Qrow wanted. He wanted a drink and a break away from the bullshit therapy Ozpin was forcing on him. He hated it. He wanted to sit at the bar and brood and hate the world, not crack heads. Ugh, this is not what he needed. Whatever. Might as well get a drink and do what he wants. Anything was better than therapy.

"Yeah, yeah. Get me some whiskey first."

"No problem. And take that goddamn suit off. I can't have patrons thinking I'm making kids fight for money." That's exactly what Junior was about to do, but Qrow kept quips stowed away for people he was allowed to make them to. Also, Junior was younger than him. Don't sass the hand that pays you. Qrow took his blazer and tie off. The bouncer shrugged with his face, that half-pout and raised eyebrow toddlers make to question their mom, and watched Junior escort Qrow inside. They crossed the main room towards the large staircase, and he got a better view of The Web. The same chair as last time, Wolfgang Port sat at the bar, ripe for another wallet stealing. Qrow waved, but he wasn't looking.

"Port wants to kick your ass for last time," Junior said, leading him down the stairs.

"Might as well get paid for it," Qrow shrugged.

"Word has it that you asked your sister to flirt with him, you screamed to get away from her, punched him, stole his wallet, and walked away unscathed." Qrow got apprehensive. How did this part of Vale operate? Was he supposed to deny it? He tried stalling for time, but Junior answered his silent questions.

"You're hilarious. I like it. Be careful around him, from now on. Everyone down here has their own agenda, and you added 'Kick that kid's ass' to his. Most of them are here for money. Most of 'em. Some of these weirdos live to beat up other weirdos. But what makes 'em want the money so much they'll turn to fighting rings?... Don't worry about the legality of it. Fight rings are legal. This one isn't, but the cops don't like checking this part of Vale cause Lil' Miss pays them enough. Valean cops are cheap. You get into trouble with them, say Lil' Miss will be Lil' Pissed. I've done that one plenty of times. I'm kind of a big deal." Junior was a kid pleased to finally be above somebody. A little brother interested in being the big brother for once. Why else would he talk before Qrow even hopped into the ring? Poor guy was jumping the gun, he was lucky Qrow was committed. Money was nice, but slamming some heads together would be nicer.

"Rookies fight early because nobody cares about them. We get you guys out of the way so we can use the money matches at night. But hey, I'm sure you'll make your way up quick. Port is a money match guy."

Junior wasn't lying. Underneath The Web was a bunch of humid rooms with rings in the middle. Boards lined the walls and explained how each fight every day was going to go. Rookies' Bracket, there was a man and woman fighting with only six people watching. There was 2,000 lien down on the fight on both sides. Looked like the people betting were close friends or coaches. Like an elementary school's soccer game, the only people watching made the kids or wanted them.

Fists and wits only, two rookies were beating each other senseless. The orange-haired guy had a bit older than Qrow. Like, Oobleck levels of young. Not much meat on his bones. Lean. He had to make each hit count. The woman bopped him in the forehead and the guy staggered back a few steps. She tried to follow it with a straight but he bobbed underneath and backpedaled into a new corner to grab his bearings.

"Another new guy. This is what, his fourth fight? He's funny. Watch this."

She had the momentum and would win in a fair boxing match, which was how the two went about fighting. Both had a proper stance and all. It was only time and a few hits until the guy went down. Wiry frames were wires. Especially without an aura going against someone who had one. The woman pulled out no stops, she had everything on him. The guy smirked, and a switch flipped. He stopped fighting defensively, he aggressed where he shouldn't have and it worked. Nobody would expect the moves he made because they could be punished. Could be punished but they weren't. The orange head went for one final pounce, but the woman wised up and smashed his head in. The guy lost consciousness, and that was it for him and the match. He got up after a minute and stumbled out of the ring. Meanwhile, the winner collected their money and gave a small bit of it to the woman. Orange guy and his friend looked dishevelled and toweled off on a bench. They sulked as the other side left the room.

"Lost every single one, but he gets close. He just needs an aura. Anyways, let's go get you going against someone. You can fight today, right?"

"Yeah," he said, looking at orange head. There wasn't shame. Orange head knew he was going to lose, and he was proud he didn't lose earlier. He walked into that ring expected to have his head beat in.

"No, not against him. That's not fair for either of you. You need to showcase your brains."

Junior paired Qrow against another rookie standing around, waiting to fight. An older dude who spent plenty of time at the gym. Junior didn't seem concerned, though. The old man had another old man with him, wearing a trilby and smokes in his breast pocket. They were happy to oblige Qrow, a kid all alone. Anybody would have kept his company if he asked, but he didn't deserve to have anybody nearby. Gretchen deserved that, and she had created a bubble of wicked mutual exclusivity. She was a better teacher than anyone at Beacon; Peach taught him about the battle for faunus rights, but Gretchen taught him finer points in life. Your sister needs attention too, your friends are your friends and that means more than you think it does, you can be a good person and do fucked up things, you can be a bad person and do good things, you can be a good person and life can still be sucked out of you and vomit blood over the person you kissed earlier that week. She was a good teacher, but he tried not to think about her. She wasn't dead until he remembered she was dead.

Junior explained today was the first day of fighting for Qrow. The old men almost didn't want to fight; they couldn't be sure they were going to make money and beating up a no-name kid didn't do anything for reputation. They stood nothing to gain. Qrow sighed, and bet all the lien he had that he would win. It wasn't much. Just what he could safely steal, and he couldn't steal lien off cards. He could sell wallets, sell scrolls, stuff like that, but cards didn't work. 8,927 lien. It was above 25,000 before he started buying everything Summer told him to. Weapons and fun were expensive. Huntsmen grade clothing was even worse. How all the students paid for their own aura-friendly clothes, he didn't know. He did know, because they had parents rich enough to send them to Beacon. His mom sent him to another country with nothing. Qrow needed money, and to make money, he had to spend money. The bet didn't convince the geezers. They still had nothing to gain; what if Qrow steamrolled them? Qrow sighed and paid the older man to fight him. 1,000 lien. Goodbye, food money.

Junior stayed to watch, but he kept checking his expensive watch to see if he had to go upstairs. It was too early; nobody would be at the bar. Qrow took off his shirt to not get it sweaty. Slacks, dress socks and shoes, and nothing else. The older man had a whole get-up. Red and white, it was atrocious matching. He had worked out in his younger days and it went to his head. That outfit was not good. The brain behind it, however, was still sharp. Wary, didn't want to approach. Junior rang the bell and the rookies were off to the races.

Plan A: learn everything he could and counter. Plan B: Grab, twist, and pull the baby makers. Old school, defensive boxing style. Not good for him. A man who spent years mastering one thing can use it as a crutch, and beat anything Qrow can throw at it head on. He had to force him not to box and hope his Semblance wasn't impressive. The old man was aggressive. Fought close, closer, retreated, bobbed and weaved anything Qrow threw out.

Thing is, boxing is defensive in the upper body. So Qrow tackled the old man's feet and turned it into a grappling match. He wasn't strong like the old man was, but he slithered around to avoid being wailed. After a few chokeholds and bops to the head, the old man went unconscious for half a minute. Qrow won.

The old men slinked off without a handshake, the one who didn't find murmuring to himself that he made a good decision in not betting. Junior was pleased with himself, with that immature glisten of 'I told you I was right.' Qrow didn't like Junior, but he was going to work with him for the next few months. Years. Decades. If this made enough, for the rest of his life. He'd retire from Beacon and find old men in rings until the day he died or the day his liver imploded. Junior wheeled him around for the next few hours and Qrow paid a couple of other fighters to convince them to fight him. He did the same thing every battle: learn what to do, then do it. That was every problem in life. Research the solution, then solve. It's that easy. By the end of the amateur hour, Qrow had four wins under his belt. And those wins only cost him 2,000 lien! What a drag. He needed money, not these small bets. Clothes fit for huntsmen would cost much more than this.

"Champ in the making! You're gonna be worth millions. Want to stay and watch the big boys fight?"

"No, I have something to do tonight."

"You're ghosting me? All right."

"No, no. Let me get your number on my scroll." They exchanged numbers, and Junior begged him to stay a little longer. He didn't. Although Junior had a shift upstairs, Qrow was the first one to leave. Today, he woke up too early to go to a shitty therapist and paid people to let him kick their heads in. It was a bad day.

Qrow made it upstairs and collected himself at the counter. What led him to this horrible spot? In a school for a job he didn't want, working for a Headmaster who sent him on missions that took pieces from him. Every time he stepped on a Bullhead, they had sent them to a new place that wore him down and added bags under his eyes. The last thing he wanted was a bigger burden. He had done little and failed much. Today would have been better if he stayed home. He relaxed his head onto the colorful counter. His face smoothed over the clear plastic that changed colors routinely. Neon blue, to a neon purple. Now to pink. A large color range, it overpowered the grays, but the grays didn't piss him off, didn't stick around in his head when he blinked, didn't bother him when he tried sleeping in the same bed Gretchen sat on while waiting for him. He regretted listening to all of Tai's stupid stories. That's all they were. Stupid stories. Beacon would have been better if he stayed home.

With his face up against the plastic like a beast pushing its bars around, Qrow spent fifteen minutes moping. He wanted to go back to Tsune and check in with Summer. She promised they would do homework together over their scrolls, with this week being too hectic to listen to lectures. Even history sounded dim.

A hand tapped his shoulder, slightly. A scared one, it didn't stay for comfort. It alerted him, and alert he was. Qrow looked up from his tired stupor and saw the orange-hared guy from earlier. Yeah, he was older than Qrow without a doubt. His orange hair was hard to see in the wacky lights. Pensive, uncertain. He came alone, the person he was with no doubt hiding in the stairwell to play guardian angel.

"Hey. I watched your fights today. Incredible work."

"Thanks." That was enough for Qrow, but it wasn't enough for the orange-haired guy. He patiently waited for Qrow to finish the thought, but the thought was done. He begged it to come back, but there was no point in reliving an idea after its time. He pursued a new topic with, "You fought well. Same way as me, I think. Get in the ring, adapt to the person, then solve from what you see."

"It's that simple," the orange head said.

"So, you need aura? I think it would help," Qrow asked.

"You sure? I wouldn't ask that of you. You're supposed to beat me one of these days."

"It's fine, just follow me."

It was too loud to concentrate out there. The bar was too colorful, the music was rang too much, nothing spoke meditative. He hated that word, but that's what unlocking aura was like. Tapping into a person's protective shred of soul was important, and it had to be done right. Mother taught him and he'd been doing it as a symbol of power since he was young. A little speech before opening their door to the big world of not bleeding every time they wanted to fight. She gave him a huge information dump of what it was: allegedly, anything with a soul used its energy as its shield to block it from physical harm. What little work scientists had done on aura couldn't justify that answer, and telling little Timmy his dog has a soul for its brief time on Remnant was too much. The soul excuse was garbage. But whatever. Qrow wished souls were real, it would be nice. You had to use that word unlocking an aura. Soul. Soul. What did that even mean?

The orange head walked in, shifting his eyes to cover every corner of the bathroom. He wanted to be sure he wasn't getting jumped. This guy had seen too much of Vale. Qrow told him what to do. Close the eyes, empty the head. It was clockwork he progressed through before. He had to come up with a speech, something from his fake soul that would unlock another fake soul.

Qrow touched the orange-haired kid. He lit up, his aura flaring. From the soul. Straight from the bottom, whatever soul he had left now. Qrow said the first words that came to mind.

"For it is in Truth that we achieve immortality. Through this, we unveil the lies humanity created and unshackle those unneeded chains. Responsible not for good nor for evil, only burdened by this tiring pursuit, I release your soul, and by my hand doom you." Qrow's aura dipped, and he refused to flinch as it left him to wake up the orange guy's. He glowed orange and smiled back at him.

"It's that easy? I stand here and do nothing? That's all it took?"

"Yeah."

"All this time, my whole life, some person could touch me, say some stupid words that they don't mean, and I would have an aura? Easy, simple? The other guys made it sound hard. I thought you were going to knock me out."

"I meant them, kinda," Qrow said.

"You don't even know me. You don't mean anything. Thanks. Bye." The orange-haired guy walked out of the bathroom and left Qrow worse than he felt before. Here he thought unlocking aura would be an interaction of souls, and he would be setting a man on his personal journey for greatness. Qrow dug deep for that speech. This ritual of unlocking aura was a point of pride in combat schools. Some teachers spent years editing their speech. Qrow bore his heart and connected his soul to this stranger, and all he wanted was a thank you.

Whatever. Qrow turned the right faucet and splashed water in his face. It was the hot water. Damn it, the right side was the cold water at school. Unlucky. He left The Web.

* * *

Planning out a memorial service for a student is an awkward business. There's a lot of feelings to take into account. Feelings are the largest variable in the equation of keeping Vale safe. Ozpin needed to keep his spot as Headmaster; making it all the way up the political ladder in this body was hard. His partner in this body was accommodating and gentle, and the two made a great duo.

They had to do it fast, address the problem, and tear it off like a bandaid. She died a warrior's death, one of a hero. She deserved some mourning, but would have liked to seen no time wasted in dethroning the mustached villain that killed her. He should shave it, he hadn't seen that mustache work on women for three whole lifetimes.

Ozpin went through some of the paperwork needed. There would be a memorial of optional attendance midday, where they took the first years in originally. Beacon paid to place Gretchen's body in a coffin and clean it up so the Rainart family wouldn't have their heads. She was already shipped out to their home address after Glynda called them in a grave tone. Apparently, one of the family members wanted to come to the memorial service at school, but they would have their actual funeral at their home. Good. Keeping a dead body near children was a recipe for disaster.

Glynda had the assorted decorations prepared. Beacon banners, Beacon podium, anything to tie Gretchen's life to the cause of a Huntress. She would be a sensation, one to inspire the students to think of their memorial if they ever die in fighting Grimm and Salem. An awe inspiring speech, an open mic for eulogies that he would push STRQ and CRSS to speak at. Then, he would look into filling the holes her death caused. Patching CRSS up with another student since they agreed, among other things. A plethora of problems.

She was a victim. Of who, was a good question. Was Watts working with Salem? Was he with Mantle, who had ties with Merlot? How did that business partnership start? Too many questions, and Ozpin had to sit around and speak at a child's funeral. He'd have to fix the course of history, or it was about to write a bad chapter.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks for reading! Next chapter is heartbreaking. Prepare yourselves for the depressing part of the narrative. It won't be forever, so enjoy it while it lasts. Shenanigans will return._

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


	21. Chapter 21: Doomed Hazel's Eyes

Chapter 21: Doomed Hazel's Eyes

* * *

Seems like only a few days ago, Gretchen was back in their room to annoy Raven. Today, she would be attending her funeral service. She wasn't sure how she felt about the whole thing. 'The whole thing' meaning not just Gretchen, but everything that unfolded since she left the safety of the Branwen Tribe's wooden spikes. She set out on becoming a warrior better than her brother, capable of leading the Tribe in Mother's aging years.

She had done it. Genuinely, she had. Qrow was a mess who couldn't protect himself because he was hellbent on getting himself killed. Every other day, someone had to pull him out of a fire he kindled. He drank too much, he had sex with a girl who died right after, and he lost his voice in the past few days. The nights in the dorm room were still too loud.

"What are you up to today, Rav?"

"We're speaking at the service."

"Yeah, but after? Or before?"

"I don't care."

"Well, if you don't care, want to go to the mess hall for some grub? I know I can't make a speech on an empty stomach."

"No."

"How about after?"

"No."

"C'mooon. I know you're free."

"Yeah."

"This room is dead in spirit, girl. You should get out of here before it starts sucking you too. First, Summer goes and gets hurt, now Gretchen's gone and we're still moping. It's hard to smile, but this is the most important time to do it. We can't sit around and have our fingers crossed that stuff is going to fix itself. Look. I'm going to open the blinds and let the morning sun in. If you start hissing, I'm gonna have to put you vampires down."

"Okay."

Tai went over to the window and pulled it open. Qrow didn't hiss, but his eyes crinkled and squinted at the sun. Trying to will it away and bring the dusk back. He covered himself with his blanket and tried not to leave the room. Where was the man she spent her childhood looking up to? Where was the bird that soared through a portal to behead a Nevermore midair and return back to humanity with a smug smile on his face? Now he was depressed stubble and the smell of whiskey.

Where was Qrow?

"Go shower, vampire. Go. Go. Gooooo." Tai poked at Qrow, who groaned in response. After the fourth poke, he flipped off the blanket and caught Tai's arm. He twisted out. Tai flashed angry eyes at him and Qrow quit it, but he didn't apologize. He stomped over to the shower like a toddler and slammed the door.

"See, I'm so patient. I'd be a great dad."

She didn't take the bait. He wasn't wrong, though.

* * *

The sickness Qrow hoped was a hangover didn't leave by the time his shower was done. Water at the coldest setting, soap in his eyes (it works), he tried his hardest to forget last night. The orange-haired guy was frustrating. The one good thing Qrow thought he could do was a curse in disguise and took away the guy's illusion of aura grandeur. His Semblance was going to be something of vengeance, like anyone who says a bad word about him would have their balls set on fire.

Once he started drying himself off, he checked his scroll. An hour and a half before the memorial service started. He wasn't sure how this was going to pan out. Ozpin would give some oration about the greater good to skirt responsibility for the thing and pass the mic to other people to eulogize her. Her. Her. He tried to forget her name, he pushed it to the bounds of his conscience and tried to push it over the brink into oblivion, but she refused to budge. She loved him and he never got to explain he didn't love her. And he never will. What did he even know about her? She had an overprotective older brother, she probably lived in Vale, probably had a good relationship with her parents. These were a lot of inferences, facts that could be confirmed had she lived any longer and he would be invited to her home over the vacation because he had nowhere to go. He would have met her brother, her parents, they would have had the difficult conversation of what they were to each other, Qrow wouldn't have the heart to admit anything, and she would be happy. So happy. Dating a loved one, attending a school for the career she wanted to follow, a team where she mattered. And Qrow ripped that all away tangling in a geopolitical mess where he had no responsibility.

What role did a kid from Animan Wilds have in this? His corner of the world had no bearing on the global stage. It'd be years until they pissed off Argus and the Atlesians who ran the place. He was a small spec, void of significance. Men like Ozpin were the stage directors, they placed the wings, they made the curtain rise and fall on command. They wrote the script and everyone played. It was time Qrow quit the role. He wasn't cut out for this. He was a kid from Mistral who was going to back to Mistral. No more Mantle, no more Huntsmen missions, no more nothing. No more Summer, no more Tai. The only thing Qrow brought was death and extended stays to the hospital.

He put on his school uniform after brushing. He wanted to burn this stupid thing. Hints of pink held on, that muddy red of blood on his collar insistent on staying. He should have washed it as soon as he could, but sitting in the same room as the corpse turned his brain off to regular sensibilities. In Ozpin's instructions for today, he explained that the body was shipped to the family in a discreet hearse and Qrow would never have to lay his eyes on it again. Her, sorry. It was a difficult distinction to make, and in a month he'd wouldn't have to do it again.

Tai and Raven were gone by the time he popped back out. Which was weird, because he only heard Raven shower this morning. Tai was going out stinky. That's not how to snare Raven. Well, whatever Raven he knew. The one that he slept in the same room with nowadays is a different one, and maybe this new Raven was easier to impress. He didn't listen to their conversation. That was new. He listened to every conversation he could. It was hard now. He was tired.

He should apologize to Tai for acting like a child this morning. But he _should_ do a lot of things. It went on the to-do list in his scroll, underneath the impossible task of "stop drinking whiskey." Right above those two was "sneak whiskey into school," so it wasn't the most organized list.

He dug his hands in his pockets and his shoulders drooped. Mother would take a switch and thwack his back, but she wasn't around to police his posture anymore. He let his spine chill, now a walking slump headed towards where this ridiculous trip started. The Beacon Ballroom.

There was a news van. The anchor wasn't acting for the camera yet. The cameraman walked across the side of the ballroom with a gleam of passion in his eye. He was making art for national television, no surprise he wanted it to be quality and have a good time with it. Still, something bothered Qrow about it. Contemplated throwing a punch his way and spitting on him. Then again, this wasn't the time for violence, anyhow. The anchor straightened her back, said something to the camera man, and her voice came out in the signature, generic, boring cadence all faces for the camera owned.

"Here we are, Larry, at Beacon Academy, the wonderful white walls that have taught and raised new defenders for all of Remnant. We are here today to mourn and celebrate the loss of Gretchen Rainart who passed away in the line of duty, defending Vale from the pro-faunus terrorist group known as the White Fang. The report given by the school describes how a peerless team of Huntsmen and Huntresses shadowed a Huntress of the highest caliber into Mountain Glenn. What was supposedly a mission to gather data on the causes behind the Grimm invasion of Mountain Glenn took a turn for the worst, when White Fang members planted a bomb to destroy all evidence. Saving her team and the data, Gretchen will go down as a defender of Vale, and her portrait will be set in the Hall of Heroes on campus. Rest in peace."

When the cameraman gave her a thumbs up, her back slumped and her smile faded into a look of boredom. The cameraman disappeared into the building to grab some more shots before the memorial service started. Recording mourners would be difficult. The room was supposed to open in thirty minutes and Ozpin's speech thirty minutes after that. That gave Qrow a little time to do whatever.

"Hey, I heard you guys were covering the memorial."

"Yeah. Trying to get on TV, kid? Say something about the student lost when my cameraman comes back and we can get your face on."

"Sounds good to me, I've always wanted to be on. But hey, what's this about the White Fang?" Qrow asked.

"I dunno," she said, shrugging at the van driver. He explained that the script came from the company and they didn't have all the answers to the news. They were the face, not the brains behind it. Prying them for answers would be dumb, but today was a dumb day.

"It doesn't make much sense, does it? They're diplomatic and live in Menagerie. I don't see why they would have any reasons to drop a bomb, especially in Vale."

"Do you watch the news at all, kid?"

"Do you have a mind of your own, ma'am?"

"Look, kid. I get you're mad that things don't make sense but that's how the world works. If you check any of our sister networks, they'd tell you the White Fang has been travelling through Vale, sowing seeds of some crime, and they'll be back to harvest the city's criminals for their own. And you know what? I don't know. And I don't care that I don't know. It's not my job to know, it's my job to look pretty and say words."

"This shit is hard to believe, especially with that fake performance of yours."

"Go do something better with your time, kid. We're busy."

"I know a professor if you don't understand the words you say."

"Scram." Qrow did, and while he walked away, the driver of the van tried to open up the door into the back and Qrow's aura flared. The door wouldn't budge. He fiddled with it for a few seconds and started mumbling curses to himself and about how this day was going to be horrible. A little karmic retribution didn't hurt anyone. Qrow pondered that and thought it a bad thing. Next time he'd see Watts, he would be his own karmic retribution. If he ever did. He didn't plan on it, didn't plan on doing any more of these loopy missions where legs break and people die. His feelings and his brain dueled for the reins: kill Watts, or never see him ever again? Both were right and both were wrong, but neither seemed to care about Qrow. Right, wrong, Gretchen (damn it, _she_ ) was dead and the news was covering up the story by using a faunus rights group as a terrorist boogieman. Anybody with a brain could chop up the story into little bits and force feed it down the news anchor's throat.

Remnant is a fucked up place. Not a place for Summers and Gretchens.

Qrow looped around to the back of the ballroom and tried to find an adult who could tell him how Ozpin felt about this circus act. Who was privy to the truth? They didn't tell any of the students to stay quiet, they just assumed they would? This was going to be a horrible experience. He caught the eyes of Amber. They shared a tense look. She killed her too. They didn't have a right to be here, and yet here they were. World had a funny way of working stuff out. She tilted her head towards a door to signal him to come in and entered herself. He followed her in.

"Once Oz finishes his speech, he'll open up the mic for any other eulogies. He wants you to go first." Everything that came out of her mouth was an order, wasn't it? Whatever.

"Why is that?"

She explained how most Beacon teams mesh then they'll crash and then they'll mesh again. But CRSS was a constant train crash. They were a train wreck, which was strange given the amount of care and attention the teachers went through putting teams together. It seemed like something went wrong, something didn't go as planned. Some anomaly was playing checkers instead of chess that day. The new person they were planning on adding might change that, but for now they were still being carefully evaluated.

Qrow sat behind the corridor running behind the stage and its wings. It was a gaudy circus. They were concerned with the aesthetics for the camera rather than what a memorial service was for. A Beacon worker straightened out flowers and banners. This was a propaganda presentation, not a memorial. Bees worked on the ballroom for thirty minutes, perfecting everything until it was time to open the doors. Students clumped and trickled in, despite her not being popular. Was it the spectacle of a student dying? Once in a decade occurrence, the hype of being part of an event that will not happen again? Hopefully. That could have been Summer up there. She and Gretchen were cut from the same silky cloth, a cloth that hugs close and is worth too much to do so. He peeked his head out of the wing and shook his head. Amber told him to sit out front, and pointed at the empty space the remnants of STRQ sat at. The team ran on two and a half people.

Glynda came out and silenced the crowd. Ozpin delivered a speech but Qrow couldn't bring himself to listen to it. But he couldn't bring himself not to listen to it. A frustrating existence. "Huntsman carry an oath to leave the world better than they found it. Everywhere we walk, sorrow lurks in the shadows and takes people by surprise. Grimm terrorize the country and hold civilization from expanding outwards. They prey on the frustrated, the angry, the negative, who are already at a loss with themselves. Huntsmen and huntresses elect themselves to protect and serve.

"Gretchen died a warrior's death. She served us in a way only she could have. A large explosion in Mountain Glenn has opened a crater in the ground and exposes what was underneath. Given time, the black ash and blood will be blown away by the wind and dispersed, changing the landscape to the same brown it was before Gretchen was there. Substituting in for another team, she protected friends she didn't need to, history she didn't need to, a world she didn't need to. But Gretchen chose to. Bravery, courage, and selflessness. She teaches us our values and will join the torch lighting the way down the dusky path towards the future. She will be forever remembered in Beacon, and shall join the other students who made the ultimate sacrifice in the Hall of Heroes. We will now open the memorial service for any students who want to share their own thoughts."

The world clapped. How orderly it was, these rowdy combat ready kids. No, that's not what Huntsmen and Huntresses did. He was here for strength. Raven was here for pride. Taiyang was here for… pussy? Summer was here for selflessness. One in four. Ozpin didn't know his own audience. And yet the students beamed with pride, some with solemn faces. But none with tears. Not even Qrow, the tears didn't want to come. He wanted to cry, to honor her with feelings that he never showed her while she was around. Appreciation, real appreciation, not the fake love he gave back to her. But she deserved good, and all of Qrow was bad. Bad, bad, bad.

Tai tried to push Qrow off his seat. He didn't budge. He didn't want to. Qrow would do it right or not at all. Raven looked at him. Ozpin looked at him. But he didn't move. A minute of silence. Terse. The whole room could see Ozpin looking at Qrow, and the holdup was unclear. Where was CRSS? Couldn't they mourn their own team member? Why did this fall to him?

He couldn't. Something broke.

Raven stood up and took Qrow's responsibilities. She walked up the stairs and delivered a short speech. "Gretchen helped Team STRQ in initiation. She helped us do something that hasn't been done in years: kill a Nevermore flying over the Emerald Forest. That's a job Huntsmen who have been working for years cannot accomplish. Yet we did. As my brother plummeted straight down about to break his spine, Gretchen caught him and kept him safe. A defender, full of love. We miss her." Claps, she sat.

Tai got up. "On behalf of our team leader Summer, I have to say that Gretchen made the dorm more lively. Last week, I was playing Ultimate Ninja 4 with her. She's not a video game person, seemed like she never held a controller in her life. But she tried her hardest, not only in the game, but to like it. She wanted to like it, she wanted me to have fun, and she wanted the room to have a good time. And you know what, Gretchen? I did have a good time. Thank you." Claps, some whistles, he sat.

Shiro, the bald guy. Claps, he sat. Heather. Claps, she sat. Even Carmen, the bitch who had it out for her, walked up to the podium and bawled her eyes out. Gratitude and repentance. Atonement for how she treated her. Carmen could do it, but Qrow couldn't find it in him. Claps, she sat. The librarian. Claps. Professor Peach. Claps. All the lives she touched worth something walked up and shared truth. That was it, Qrow wasn't worth anything.

The crowd bled dry and the seats that some worker took hours placing were shoved around and empty. Raven didn't look at him as she left the room. Tai gave him a pat on the arm that Qrow cringed at. He shouldn't be touched, apparently that broke legs and killed people.

The teachers and Beacon staff remained, cleaning, the teachers dictating where things should go. The room was almost devoid of life, a la the casket that carried the poor girl. A man approached him. Big, clean shaven, and not too much older than him. He must have finished crying a few minutes ago, his eyes were puffy. Qrow was jealous.

"Are you a part of that Team STRQ?" He sat down next to Qrow.

"Yeah," Qrow said.

"Qrow?"

"Yeah."

"She talked about you a lot. Wanted me to meet you." That must have been her overprotective brother, Hazel.

"Did she text you often?"

"She didn't tell you much, huh?"

Qrow nodded.

"Or did you never ask?"

"I made her too busy to talk," he said with a brutal tone. Why did he say that?

"Look, you miss her. I miss her. We've got stuff in common. You and I can be nice to each other. But goddamn this school has told me nothing. Absolutely nothing on what happened and why she had to die. I get some stupid synopsis about the White Fang planting a bomb in Mountain Glenn while you were doing research. But why? Why were you there? She's not even on your team. What was she doing in Mountain Glenn, what was the White Fang doing in Mountain Glenn, what were you doing in Mountain Glenn? I don't get it, I don't get a damn thing about this. Nobody will tell me the details, and that makes me think that Ozpine lying. Is he lying, Qrow?"

Qrow's eyes were shocked open, but he didn't say anything.

"Qrow, please," Hazel pleaded. "I need to know why my sister died."

He couldn't muster up a response. The truth would ruin him.

"It can't be the White Fang, it doesn't make any sense. What is Ozpin doing? What happened? None of this can be true. She trusted you, she told you everything. You were there. What happened, man? What happened?"

Nothing came.

"I don't want my sister to go down as a propaganda poster, some martyr that will be forgotten years down the line. I don't want her to die, I want her to live, and I want her to be here and happy. What happened? What did Ozpin do?" His words came out sloppy and slow, and Qrow couldn't make out all of them. Tears streaming down his face and desperation in his eyes. A person who wants something that will never come. Hazel grabbed his shoulders and cried.

Qrow didn't say anything back.

That desperation that held his eyes relaxed, went blank for a second, and realized what was happening. A look of resignation. Qrow had seen those eyes before, in his dreams, on top of him, accepting the sweet release of death. Doomed, Hazel eyes. Gretchen's brother shook Qrow, laid his head down, and cried into Qrow as he sat there. Numb, tired, and empty, Qrow sat in that seat. Hazel's eyes ran out of tears, he got up, and left. The memorial was open like an exhibit to look at a pamphlet of Gretchen's life, her image, and make some peace with her. He couldn't do any of that. Qrow sat.

* * *

 _A/N: We've got some new people joining us! Almost at the one year mark. That's wack._

 _-ahugebox, edited by Aeonflux III_


End file.
